The Grand Hotel

Gregory Pope stepped off the elevator and into the hotel lobby.

The café was situated to the left of the elevators and beyond the circular fountain. Impressive a week ago, the foyer’s grandiose manner was already receding into the obscurity of the familiar, and even the fountain barely registered. He made long strides past the jewelery station, through the corridor, and along the water display. Its columns were pearl necklaces forming a solid wall. He thought briefly about running his hand through the water, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to be thought ridiculous.

“Would you like coffee or tea, sir?” the waiter asked. Pope decided on coffee. It was very flavorful here.

Breakfast was a half grapefruit, a small croissant, a piece of vollkornbrot with peppercorn salami and butter, and yogurt with corn flakes. First, he poured a bit of cream into the coffee and added sugar. He cut up the grapefruit and devoured it. Next, he ate the bread and yogurt, saving his coffee for the croissant. He concluded the pastry neatly with a button of strawberry jam and a sip of coffee.

Scribbling his approval onto the bill, he strode confidently out of the café, ready for the full day in front of him.

Terrible Twos

It’s hard to believe that today is the second anniversary of my very first post.

And this past weekend, I realized that I’ve changed. Today I went out to lunch today with two of my friends: Shez and Dejon. Afterwards, we went to get some frozen yogurt. I thought to myself, “I can’t believe that I’m friends with two guys that are this awesome.” I was basically sitting there and wondering how I got to be with such great company. For most of my life, I didn’t think this way. I didn’t feel the same gratitude. Sure, I liked my friends, but I never really thought of them as perfect.

Now, it’s not like I’m super amazing friends with these guys. We don’t share our deepest secrets or swear blood oaths or go to the grave together. But they make me a better person. I look up to them. I want to be like them. Life is about having role models, and my friends are my role models.

This weekend, I really made a commitment to do things differently than I’ve been doing them before. I looked at my fears, I saw my failures, and I forgave myself. I promised to do better. I know it will be a long road, but I can do it. I know my heart is in the right place.

A Sketch

Sara squirted some more cleaner onto one of the booth tops, following with several strokes of her rag.

“This job can be tedious,” she muttered, at first without noticing that she had spoken out loud. She looked up quickly, but no one was nearby; the nearest patron was sitting, back turned, nearly ten paces away—he was out of earshot given the volume of Elvis’s resonating voice. As she returned her gaze to the unfinished surface, her eye caught the edge of the glass front door.

The man who walked in made quite an impression. He wore a grey three-piece suit which was completed by a matching fedora and a red feather. After glancing around for a few moments without seeing a hostess, he seated himself at the other end of the restaurant from Sara, who hoped that she hadn’t been caught staring.

After an adequate pause had intervened, Sara walked forward to the register, withdrew a menu, and brought it to the customer in the gray suit. He looked up with a smile, received the menu, and focused his attention on the appetizer section, while Sara returned to her former (and tedious) position. Most people had already eaten dinner, and she would be closing in less than an hour. Balancing the register would take half of that time. She picked up the pace a little. The booths didn’t have to be perfect, after all.

She kept the stranger in her field of vision, partly out of duty, and partly out of curiosity. He was fairly young, and it was unlikely that his profession called for such formal dress. Plus, the feather bordered on the ridiculous. She wondered to herself if he were a swing dancer (or was he a man-about-town?) as she stifled a laugh. Sara had seen these types before: They often carried a self-conscious pride, even while they shrank away from the most basic responsibilities of their outlandish persona, such as confidence in being different. Even in San Francisco, some people are afraid to be themselves. Her customer, on the other hand, didn’t even seem to notice his own appearance. Was he different than the others? He seemed to be quite the Rockefeller!

Sara scrubbed her last booth as she did her best to calm down. She almost felt angry with herself over getting excited so quickly.

“Let’s face it,” she thought, “I’m lonely.” She had moved in only six months earlier, and she spent so much time on her assignments that it was hard to make friends. Yet with her rent, the night job was a necessity. Sometimes, the degree just didn’t seem to be worth the trouble.

“I wish I were swing dancing,” she thought halfheartedly. Sara didn’t even like dancing, but it made her feel a little better to long for something. Why did she suddenly feel so glum? She loved her new home! It just seemed as though, well, something were missing in her life.

Letting Go

I do not claim to have seen happiness, but I have apprehended something:

Happiness is not specific; it is general. Happiness is rejoicing in the success of others as if it were your own. Happiness is not a memory. It is not a wish. It is more than safety; it is knowing there is no danger. Happiness is losing your self.

It is to see infinite possibilities but to need none of them. It is content to wait. It is a lost opportunity with no regret. It is sleeping peacefully in a messy room. It is a sink full of dirty dishes. It is a summer night on the couch with the windows open. It is the darkest day and the cloudiest sky. It’s the father you never had.

Happiness is not what you thought it was.

Not by might

Speak to me in the reality of the day, and not in the dreams of the night.  Allow me to hear your voice; grace me with your presence.  Consume my sins with an unquenchable fire; cause me to forget the pleasures of my ingratitude and selfishness.

Remove my pain and my weakness; replace my idleness with joy.  Speak to me in words that I may understand and order my steps in the paths of peace.  Send me forth in humility and protect me by your power.  Grant me the understanding of Truth.  Bathe me in joy of Life.  Make me straight and upright.

Cause me to know and to believe that which is good.

Party Rock is not my anthem

If it be possible, I desire to see more of the words of Paul in my everyday life, and to leave the darkness behind:

For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light:(For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;) Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.

Then I will have seen the light of day.

At large

I went to bed at around quarter to eleven, which is a bit early for me, and I quickly fell into a quiet sleep.

I visited a friend in Germany.  He was living in a basement-level apartment in what seemed to me a dubious rental arrangement.  We entered and exited through the porch into a back room, which was unfurnished except for a few mattresses on the floor.  The front room was fully furnished, but was left untouched as though it were a model apartment.  We were not to sleep in or use the facilities in the front room.  But we didn’t spend much time in the apartment; we went out, ate, talked, and enjoyed ourselves.

In Germany, money has less bearing on one’s standing in the community.  I’m not saying it has no bearing.  It just has less.  Everyone has inherent value, and there is a special understanding that exists even if you don’t have a penny.  This concept is less understood in the United States, except maybe inside the elite circles of the Democratic party.

My friend was driving, and he crashed the car, which then spun several times and fell off of the elevated highway into a luxury car dealership, damaging several high-end cars.  This is one of those cases where money would come into play.  We stepped, or rather, climbed, out of the damaged car.  Fortunately, no one was hurt.  I made up my mind right then and there that I would go on the run.  I wasn’t driving, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell the Bullen who was and subject him to potentially lifelong legal ramifications.  Maybe I saw Die Fetten Jahre sind Vorbei one too many times, but that was my choice.

We quickly walked away from the accident scene.  I found a hook which lowered us down to the ground floor.  Thirty seconds later, we were outside the building.  Once we turned the corner, we removed our sweaters to thwart the basic descriptions given at the scene.  The three of us walked to a nearby subway, using two women as cover.  The station was packed, and we split up.  There were police cars there, but at this point the odds of catching us were slim.  I boarded a train without even buying a ticket.  After fifteen minutes, I knew I was home free.  I just hoped my friends made it out.

I woke up, two minutes before my alarm, from one of the most well-rested sleeps I can recall.

Littered with prizes

I just finished watching the film Margin Call last night, which deals with the financial recession beginning in 2008.  It’s a great film and I highly recommend it.  The acting is decent, the characters are believable, and the pacing is very good.

Anyway, an interesting thing happened to me near the end of the movie.  The character of Huld, played by a British actor whom I did not recognize, was speaking to Kevin Spacey.  I think it was during the phrase, “It’s not wrong,” when it suddenly dawned on me that I was listening to Uncle Scar.

I checked the Wikipedia article on The Lion King.  Sure enough, the actor who portrayed Huld, Jeremy Irons, was also the voice actor behind Uncle Scar.

Things like that really make my day.

And make sure you watch Margin Call.  It’s really good.

Are you sure you want to format your disk?

I decided to upgrade my home computer to Snow Leopard.  I had been getting warnings about my browser being out of date for a while now, and since I was still running Tiger, I couldn’t even upgrade to the newest version.

Anyway, I started saving my files to some USB flash drives, and this voice in the back of my head kept saying “make a second copy.”  But I ignored it, and continued.  Then I formatted my disk.  (By the way, I don’t even remember the last time I backed up my hard drive.)  I installed Snow Leopard, rebooted my machine, and happily inserted my USB flash drive to copy my files back onto the disk.

My home folder wasn’t there.

My music library was there.  Some of my games were there.  A couple of apps were there.  In the confusion, and in my excitement, I somehow forgot to copy my home folder.

I had every paper I ever wrote from Junior High through all four years of college in there.  I had every picture I ever took while I lived in Germany in there.  I had pictures of Alicja and me kissing.  I had pictures with my friends, pictures of my old Jeep, and pictures of my trip to Pictured Rocks with Dad in that folder.  And for a moment, my heart sank when I saw what happened.

Then I thought, “let it go.”  I have a shiny new copy of Snow Leopard, and I’m just going to let it go.  I’m an honest, goodhearted man, and I can find what I need in the present instead of digging for it in the past.

And if I find a backup copy somewhere, that’s nice too.  But I won’t be losing sleep tonight.

Lost in Translation

Since living in the SF Bay area for a while, I have noticed some odd expressions that I have only ever heard from (mainly) Indian people, and no where else in American usage or in the media.  It might actually just be tech industry slang, since all of these things I hear mainly at work.  I am curious about when and where these expressions originated.

Here is a short list; feel free to suggest additions or make corrections:

club together = combine

oh is it? = really?

today evening = tonight

out the door = all-inclusive (such as in a store)

this is same = this is the same

ping-pong = brainstorm or collaborate

takeaways = highlights or lessons learned (from a presentation)