the ring of fire

rehearsal-baseball-game-dinner-fireworks videos: the ring of fire and the final bang (download and view). I recommend watching them at night with the lights off.

. . .

ouroboros: back to school

"The Ouroboros (also spelled Oroborus, Uroboros or Uroborus) is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon swallowing its own tail and forming a circle. It has been used to represent many things over the ages, but it most generally symbolizes ideas of cyclicality and primordial unity. The ouroboros has been important in religious and mythological symbolism, but has also been frequently used in alchemical illustrations. In the last century, it has been interpreted by psychologists such as Carl Jung as having an archetypal significance to the human psyche. The name ouroboros (or, in Latinized form, uroborus) is Greek (οὐροβóρος), "tail-devourer". The depiction of the serpent is believed to have been inspired by the Milky Way, as some ancient texts refer to a serpent of light residing in the heavens." (Wikipedia)


I love the internet. Somebody made a banana ouroboros. Not ever having eaten snake ouroboros, I can't say that banana ouroboros is tastier, but it would probly go better with cheerios.



. . .

polka ... goes international

My statcounter tells me that I now have or have had readers in Canada, France, the U.K., Austria, Switzerland, and Spain. This is cool. It also makes sense. I think that maybe Ghana is the five places without any location. But why on earth do I have the most hits in the past month from people in El Reno, Oklahoma? Okies, speak up! I can't think of a single person I know there, so: who are you and why are you reading this? I'm also curious to know who's in Independence, Missiouri, Norwalk Connecticut, and Boca Raton, Florida (Piroska? Is that you?). Please do share.

In less meta-blog news, school starts tomorrow. Not so much to say about that at the moment, except it will be nice nice nice to see my peeps again. I no longer have a fever, although things are still awry down south. I'm hoping I don't have the awful parasites Kristin has been hosting. My apartment is slowly returning to A-apartment order, though I think it will be a few weeks before all is put right again. There was a plant massacre in my absence, which is sad, but happily almost none of the plants to which I was most emotionally tied died. The worst loss was a pretty little petunia growing out of a can! that I received from my sister Jeanne for Xmas and kept alive for a year and a half. I hope that another one finds its christmas way to me again this year.

Part of my slow-moving apartment-putting-to-rights was an olde time favorite of mine: online shopping! I bought a rug, some buttons by marimekko (a terrific Finnish design company), and a postcard album. I'm especially excited about the postcard album because I have a huge number of postcards that have long been needing a permanent home. In Annapolis, they sat on a ledge on the wall, and often fell off; most of the time since then they've been in a box or in a pile.

It was terrific seeing the family last weekend; I just wish I'd been less exhausted. I don't regret all the other travelling, but I wish it could have been more spread out, with perhaps some downtime in New York before it all began. But I got to see some law school people, some high school people, and a buttload of family people, and it makes me happy.

Here's my new rug:

















I hope it looks as nice in person. or in rug.
Time to sort thru the suitcases. Oh yeah, and tomorrow's Aaron's birthday. Happy birthday Aa!

. . .

smooch!

My brother Shum and sister-in-law Diana are married. that's the big news. I don't have the pictures to prove it because I was using a manual camera, but I swear it's the truth. Instead, I will just have to salute them with New York's Finest:



congrats, family!


please return your seat to the full upright and locked position
I stepped today off the sixth plane I have taken since I got back from Ghana exactly 16 days ago, and the 8th in 17 days. And we're not done yet, folks! Aaron's Maine Birthday looms brightly next weekend. I was very nearly run right over today by a young woman racing to offer herself to be bumped for a free flight. She smiled at me and said, as if it excused her shocking behavior, that she especially needed it because she, a pesky med school applicant, was going to have to fly all over for her interviews and didn't get reimbursed. I started to explain that I, too, might have such flights in my future, but it wasn't worth explaining what a clerkship was. Her elbows would fit right in in Ghana, though. And in med school, probably. This is starting to sound a little like a medical school rant, which is unnecessary (but maybe a little bit funny?), and dumb, since I really have nothing against med school or med school applicants. Let's explain it away with the confession that I'm feeling feverish, and not from excitement. Hopefully just exhaustion. But that isn't allowed to stop me from stuffing my clerkship applications tomorrow. School starts Wednesday. Thank heavens above Jessie will be here to help ease the pain.


. . .

p.s. neither the elbower nor I received a free flight.

tastier spam

I got an email today that claimed to be from someone named SCIENCE. It's good to finally communicate one on one, without the mediation of those pesky SCIENTISTS. Maybe we will understand one another at last.

Also, "Kyle," another spamslinger, served this up to me:

It has been since we've gossiped.
just wanted you to hear about the project, that has been advising me lose
my gut.
You should stop by at [website]

give them 11 sec and that's it to begin.
It was super decisevely having someone to support me out.
I apologize I have been so overdue with it. Call me

escarpment as though some all disagree powerful hand had
I kill integrated if you do not let
sleepy that they must have dive already


Are YOU sure? Who comes up with this stuff? Kyle's a genius! Spam is entertainment!

In other news, my time in Nebraska is finished and we roll to Kansas City. Look out, nephews! buh-BLAM! auntie me's coming to town.

. . .

goodbye 475-3981

you were good to me. you were the number i could remember best for a while after my parents moved. you can leave a message if you'd like to. sayonara, 475-3981.

. . .

psssst

Ghana wasn't big enough to contain Timo ten Feld's blog. Now you shall know his velocity here.

. . .

thug life

is nothing like the Good Life they celebrate here in Nebraska. Or so I imagine. Nebraska is plenty* rainstorms viewed from the porch, garage sales, farmers markets, and thrift stores rich in Americana, family love, hair cuts, laundry on the line**, fresh tomatoes, sweet corn, and basil, and noisy-ass crickets***. I've been kicking it high time with Sarah W. Thompson, Harris P. Lehl, Tc (also shaking down America for a few short weeks till the bro gets hitched), and the folks. Lots of time being spent on clerkship applications, but they'll be done soon.

Sarah Keene Parady's Wyoming Wedding was tres beau. She was iconoclasticly lovely in copper, and Jeff looked great too, in dress jeans and cowboy boots. I think that Jeff's mom gets kudos as my favorite local wyominger. Plus I got to chill with my NYU girls Navneet and Susanna, who taught my a great new car game, Chuck, F%*& or Marry. And many thanks to Cameron and Daphna, who drove me from Salt Lake City, UT (possibly my all-time favorite city to fly into, for the views, topping even NYC) to Rock Springs, WY. I Like Them. They R Kool. Daphna lives in Rome most of the year. We bonded. And even if Rome wasn't enough to do it, she and Cameron and SKP's friend Rachel and I were all in a minor car accident together. Everybody's fine, except the cars, but it added some flava flave to the weekend. My whiplash was temporarily enough make SKP's mom give me a muscle relaxant to chew on, though. That was great. It scored me some quality shut-eye, which I needed, cause of the whole jetlag + getting up at 3:30am to get to the NYC airport to fly to SLC bizniz.

Next week Mom, Tc, and I will chug on down to Kansas City to visit the KC McShanes (starring my nephews! Mark! and! Ian!), then we'll all (incl. them and Dad) will fly to Pittsburgh for Shum-Dude & Diana's wedding! woo! then school starts. boo! But really, it will be fine. And it looks like the year will yield lots of zippy trips--hope to see SWT & HPL in NYC, TJC & Dr. RLY in Boston, Dr. JEC in Alaska AND NYC, Adelle getting married in Mexico + me visiting her in Portugal, the fam at Thanksgiving, and maybe even Zach & Timo's wedding in Oh Canada.

hearts to all,

. . .


*plenty is a good ghana word. work it! we are plenty handsome!
**This does not always coordinate well with the rainstorms. Nor with the very proximally located birdfeeders.
*** no. not noisy ass-crickets.

p.s. I don't know that person in the Good Life picture. But maybe you do.

i'm going back to new york city i do believe i have had enough

The title is my favorite new york homecoming song lyric (bob dylan). Alternative title: hot showers, sushi, and green tea ice cream all have their times and places. none of which times or places seem to be in Ghana.

I left Ghana under a cloud. My good friends Zach and Timo were mugged/attacked one night after they left a club literally around the corner from our house. Timo sustained a big knife wound on his face, requiring stitches, dentistry, and drinking straws. This happened while I was travelling in Burkina with Tc. Just after I returned to Accra, another friend, Jessica, fell victim to an alleged Nigerian taxi scheme, wherein the culprits lure unsuspecting whiteys into taxis and then whisk them away to dark places to steal their money and cause other harm. Jessica wasn't hurt, but her purse was stolen, and when she noticed that they were driving the wrong way, she had to jump out of the car. You can read further descriptions of these incidents on their blogs: http://zachinghana.blogspot.com, http://timoinghana.blogspot.com, http://fierceinvalids.blogsource.com/ (guess which is whose). These and other, similar incidents reported in the expat community pretty much did away with any complacency we had about our safety in Accra. The last day or two, we were all quite nervous in taxis, around motos, and in the night. It was a sad way to leave. I don't like and resent feeling threatened, especially in a place where I otherwise experienced little other than goodwill.

However, my departure was otherwise lovely. Free mornings with Timo and Jessica, drinking tea and eating Hot Lime Pepper and groundnut paste (not at the same time) on whatever's at hand. Lots of sweeties came to the buy-one-get-one-free-pizza-on-my-last-night dinner at the Osu Food Court (sounds worse than it is, although it does have its own fake McDownalds Playland area, complete with screaming kiddos). The pizza is good though.

The next day, my last, my core crew came out to lunch with me at Haveli, a terrific indian restaurant. Happy eaters included Zach (newly back from Kenya, which was too fresh for him), Timo (healing nicely, though it still hurts him to laugh [they stole his smile: a new after-school special]), and Kris (our droll German roommate, very liberal with the antibacterial spray), plus Jessica, Candace, and Mark (all work at CDD, where Kristin worked, and terrifically likable; Jess and Mark are Obruni House staples; Candace doesn't live there but she might as well), as well as Simon, another German who used to live at Ob.H. (Kristin was still travelling in Mali.) Then we hauled my stuff to a taxi (no small job; kudos especially to Zach) and then to the airport.

I had too much stuff. Too much stuff in my checked luggage, too much stuff in my carry-ons. The fee for the too-heavy checked luggage was only $25 per bag, which is great b/c it's much cheaper than mailing it (I assume). However, I didn't have any cedis left, there are no cash machines in the airport, and they wouldn't take credit cards for less than $400. I had to put in a frantic call to Zach, who, with Jess, heroically chipped in 600,000 cedis (approx. $60) and brought it to me at the airport (Zach, Jess, Candace, and Timo were waiting for me, along with one of my carry-ons, at the hotel bar). This maneuver was successful, and I finally managed to check my bags. However, I didn't want to wait for the receipt for the $50, so I just said I'd come back for it when it was time to board the plane, and went off to join my comrades at the bar. This was a strategic error. When I came back for the receipt, they noticed my too-heavy carry-on luggage. For some reason, the fee for this was $150, and this was a fee I was not willing to pay. In part because my friends had already left and there was no way they were going to have another extra 1,500,000 cedis on them, and in part because I had none left myself, and in part because I still couldn't use a credit card or access a cash machine. However, I had heard of other ways to deal with big fees at the airport. People in Ghana do NOT like crying girls. No. Not at all. So, if sufficiently convincing, this is a very nice, if shameless, way of getting people to do what one wants. But, alas, I cannot cry on command. Instead, I discovered, I can fake the noises and the face-scrunching and the face-wiping of tears, especially with the help of a large part of a large beer, and, accompanied by moaning about my student/volunteer status, and my ruse seemed to do the trick. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if they called me out on the faking. Maybe laugh. Don't know. But in any case it worked, the lady told me to dry my tears (check! already dry!) and that I wouldn't have to pay.

The flights went by without incident, which is surprising, giving the liquid-bombing scare going on in England at the moment. I carried on plenty of shampoo and soap and what-have-you, and I was coming from Dubai, for goodness sakes, but no one said anything at all (I was ignorant of the situation anyway). I did almost miss the second flight, even though I was sitting right next to the gate, just because I didn't happen to hear any of the boarding announcements (was reading). But then I looked up and saw "Final Call," so I made it just in time and so it really isn't too great a story. All my luggage also made it, nothing even broken, I got home within a reasonable amount of time, my subletter did not abscond with all of my things, and only 6 plants are dead. Not too terrible.

I am so tired and my head so heavy and my neck so jellied that ... I am tired. I think it's around 4 am in Ghana. And I will arise again at 3:30am, NYC time, to fly to Rock Springs, WY, via Salt Lake City, Utah, to witness law student extraordinaire Sarah Jane P.'s metamorphasis into Sarah Keen P. by means of happy nuptials with one quiet Jeff.

I can't even finish all the green tea ice cream. I hope to write more about my travels with the Burkinabe Americanos, and post my photos sometime, sometime. I'll be in Rock Springs for 2.5 days, then Nebraska for 9 days, then Pittsburgh for 3, then back to New York for a week, we train our new Environmental Law Journal Rookies, school starts, and I retire with Aaron & Co. to Maine for birthday pie. then somehow the rest of the year follows along, I graduate, pass the bar, and do good work. can I get an amen, sistah?

i wonder where my checkbook is. hmm.

good night,
. . .

jiggety jog

I'm in the middle of a googlathon of buses and planes. Things are fine, I'm coming home.
. . .