Week Forty-Seven: The Facts of Life

This week's episode brought to you by the makers of Trivial Pursuit. The top butterfly flight speed is 12 miles per hour. Some moths can fly 25 miles per hour. And people wonder why I'm afraid of moths. Demented little insects that can flutter dementedly faster than I can easily move myself are something to be feared.

Day 1 (323): 27th of October
Africa is bigger than the United States, China, India, Spain, France, and several other countries combined. But as they say, mo' landmass, mo' problems. Carney Park was burning tonight.

Great photo from Pozzuoli. Had to borrow glad rags for a Ball.

Day 2 (324): 28th of October
The Mongolian navy consists of seven people and one boat. Happy Tuesday.

This one came out great. I love the unplanned shots that just seem to work.

Day 3 (325): 29th of October
In ancient Rome, when a man testified in court he would swear on his testicles. I don't think we've come all that far. Science wonders why humans only use a small portion of their brains. I think it's a sample size problem. too many men were studied, and it is well known that little thinking is done with the brain. Ohh pretty. I miss my Mini.

Ahhh, the joys of commuting at dusk.

Day 4 (326): 30th of October
The United States has never lost a war in which mules were used. It turns out that going to sleep at 2230 and waking at 0230 to listen to Game Seven of the World Series leaves one rather less than alert during the day. Despite my elation at the win for the Giants (even years are the thing), I needed two cups of tea, two cups of coffee, and half a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans to reach a level of cognizance that met the minimum requirement to do my job. Also was asked several times if I was sick, several times if I was upset about something, and a couple of kind souls informed me that I looked rather tired. So kind of these random individuals to look out for my health and inform me of my apparent condition. I call this "Sun through rainy windshield."

And this is "Moon plus star." I'm nothing if not creative.

Day 5 (327): 31st of October
The past-tense of the word “dare” is “durst.” I think that means the past-tense of "fare" should be "furst." If only because of the confusion it would cause. If the Internet cannot use the right form of "there" or "their," just imagine. Read a great article this morning extolling the virtues of ghosting. It was music to my eyes. Many a time have I been chided for buggering off from a party without saying anything. That was the plan for tonight's party. A couple hours, a couple beers, a couple hellos and I'd be gone. Haha. Best laid plans. Foiled by that A-hole Alan Keilborn Holl. Ah well. Fun regardless. And I think I've satisfied my social appearance quota for at least six months. Here is a cool photo of the moon in the afternoon.

And the sun in the sundown time.

Day 6 (328): 1st of November
It is forbidden for aircraft to fly over the Taj Mahal. Another day, another set of glad rags. The Marines really know how to put on a party. Great grub. Great tunes. Almost enough to distract a person from those she tries to avoid but who end up everywhere. And when one's defenses are down thanks to the Mother of All Hangovers, distractions are welcome. Gosh I'm a grump.

And apparently Hangover Photos look just like Day Before Hangover Photos.

Seriously. Get a new muse, Rodeo.

OK, something that isn't just like the the crap from yesterday.

Day 7 (329): 2nd of November
Cats sleep 16 to 18 hours a day. I believe it, as there is one draped across my person as I type. It is truly remarkable how a human brain works. Particularly when combined with those pesky things called emotions. Someone whose presence used to elicit a smile and positive thoughts can become someone whose presence brings out nothing but urges to simultaneously flee and cause bodily harm and make snarky comments. Really wish I were better at things like saying and doing the right thing, or saying slash doing anything. Nope, when confronted by a complex situation, I usually follow the example of the great Br'er Rabbit. And that typically ends up with me laughing because it's the only thing that makes sense. Any rate, enough of that nonsense. Here is the view from my hotel this morning. Such a lovely morning.

A duck’s quack doesn’t echo, and no one knows why. Just proves that ducks are really aliens.
Your tongue is the only muscle in your body that is attached at only one end. All the better for wagging.

Week Twenty-Six: Blithering to Bavaria

I turn to others (mostly dead others) this week to say what I am perfectly capable of saying. They just have better names and as such their way of saying things is better. The week started in dreams and ended in Bavaria.

Day 1 (176): 2nd of June
“What, then, is truth? A mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, and anthropomorphisms – in short, a sum of human relations, which have been enhanced, transposed, and embellished poetically and rhetorically, and which after long use seem firm, canonical, and obligatory to a people: truths are illusions about which one has forgotten that this is what they are; metaphors which are worn out and without sensuous power; coins which have lost their pictures and now matter only as metal, no longer as coins.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)
How about this illusion? Who knew there was a rather cheeky face in the washing machine?

Day 2 (177): 3rd of June
“It takes patience to appreciate domestic bliss; volatile spirits prefer unhappiness.” (George Santayana)
There is certainly a volatile spirit in the door handle, too. Creeeeepy....

“By object is meant some element in the complex whole that is defined in abstraction from the whole of which it is a distinction.” (John Dewey)
Is this an abstraction? At least there are no faces in the tumble dryer.

Day 3 (178): 4th of June 
“I believe that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade... And try to find somebody whose life has given them vodka, and have a party.” (Ron White)

That has nothing to do with this photo of the moon. Unless the party is under the waxing moon.

Nor has it anything to do with this one of some pins. It's the year of the horse, folks. Get with it.

Day 4 (179): 5th of June 

“If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads.” (Anatole France)

Is the path of a Naval Officer beautiful? Sometimes, certainly. 

“A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” (Eleanor Roosevelt)
Sing it, Ellie! Being as how it is my mum's birthday today, that is fitting. She's as strong as they come. Happy Birthday, Mama! I am who I am because of you.

Day 5 (180): 6th of June 

“My fake plants died because I did not pretend to water them.” (Mitch Hedberg)
Gone to Bavaria. Yes, that is a bit of Germany, but don't tell the locals. They'll get their lederhosen in a bunch. Gosh it's nice here. So green and mountainy and summery and sleepy. And I'm in a quaint but quite nice B&B called Hotel Fux. Yes that is really the name. It means Fox. But yes, I know. People are so nice. And things are so simple and quiet and ordered. Bless the German mentality. This is the view from my balcony. Big cross on top of big turtle-headish mountain.

Day 6 (181): 7th of June 

“Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.” (Mark Twain)
Do you want to build a sn- hang on, sorry... Do you want to climb a mountain? Of course I do. Because I am ridiculous. That thing I photographed yesterday? The one with the rocky bit and the cross? Why not. I've a couple days to kill in Bavaria and nothing else to do. Besides it's free and the weather is nice. Ready for a slew of photos? So nice and zen in the woods.

Even when those woods are on a rather intense slant. Why did I decide this was a good idea?

Even this tree wants me to turn around. "Back that way, silly thing. That way is down. Haven't you sweated enough?" Yes, I was doing my celebrated impression of a whore in church. Sorry, I mean to say a woman of the night in a house of worship.

Around this point I got adopted by a family of germans going at about my pace. Though really I think they mostly were concerned I'd kill myself without supervision. In the words of every Star Wars character ever, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Last little respite before the final climb. Again the temptation to turn round and go back. Only 45 mins back down (by the way, it took me just over two hours to get up here...) but only 20 mins more to the top of the peak... why not.

Didn't make it to the toppest top. Largely because of the omigawd pain in the spinal area. Also because the last 70 feet or so of climb was pretty much vertical. And my celebrated impression of a Bavarian mountain goat was a bit, erm, nonexistent. And I was wearing these.

Not too bad for a girl in pain. Got back down in almost exactly 45 minutes, mostly driven by the prospect of a soft bed and pain killers. But I made it farther up than I expected. To the shoulder just there by the top. Gosh this picture makes it look much less intimidating...

Day 7 (182): 8th of June 
“Our intelligence cannot wall itself up alive, like a pupa in a chrysalis. It must at any cost keep on speaking terms with the universe that engendered it.” (William James)
There were grand plans in place in order to keep on speaking terms with the universe, but instead I opted to keep on speaking terms with my spine (which still has not forgiven me for yesterday). Probably a boring proposition and one that is robbing me of a valuable experience, but really I think I'll stick with not being in any more pain than the usual. Standing up and going for food is a grievous enough prospect... I mean, look at the sad face on the pastry... I don't want to make that face.

See? Honestly. How pathetic. (But also so tasty - probably why it's sad.)

More of Bavaria to come. Consider the end of this week as a teaser for next week, which will be rather the opposite (i.e. mostly Bavaria with a close out w/end back in dear old Napoli).
“You tell 'em I'm comin' and hell's comin' with me!” (Sheriff Earp)