whitney and pedro are married!
here are the photos i took while in stockton for their wedding: http://picasaweb.google.com/the17pointscale/200908WhitPedroWedding?authkey=Gv1sRgCMfS4OCIpuDgGw&feat=directlink.
beth's house is breaking up.
after a mildly stressful rental search, mari and beth are headed east toward greenlake. they have found a beautiful new house (which i've yet to see) and fun new roommates. nora, a sometime-roommate, will be heading to california (or maybe colorado?) later this summer. and tomorrow, whitney (seen below in red socks) will be shipping her soccer skills south to california for good.
i thought i'd write a post to commemorate whitney's leaving or the disbandment of the house, but instead i'd like to share some advice from getgirls.com: "there's a rule about dating women with a roommate....this rule is that you must also make a good impression on her roommate."
this rule is general knowledge in the kingdom of men, and we don't need "the world's leading source for seducing women" to give us a head's up. still, i've heard (and seen) horror stories about guys and their girlfriends' girlfriends. for example, during the years right after college, i lived in a series of cramped, messy apartments--at one time, we squeezed three guys into a single nasty room--yet despite our ugly abodes, one of my roommates preferred to hang out with his s.o. at our place, not because it had some mystical appeal or because he loved us so much, but because of his relationship with her roommates.
in contrast, i'm a regular at beth's house on 79th; i genuinely like all of her roommates and consider them good friends.
during a recent work lunch, some friends and i chatted about dinners and executions; we pondered what we would eat for our last meal on death row--steaks & ribs, pizza & beer, exotic curries and a bottle of egon muller riesling--each listing was a more wonderful gluttony than the one before.
now, regardless of what we may think of california, it's probably a bit ridiculous (and morbid) to venture any kind of comparison between whitney's last meal as a washingtonian and the smörgåsbord of delicacies my work friends dreamed up for a final night in the joint. but forgive me, i can't resist. indeed, i find it rather interesting that we ate sadza, a simple shona food that mari imported from zimbabwe. sadza tastes great, but it's rather simple; it doesn't set the taste buds on fire or make the stomach purr, and i would be a little surprised if it were whitney's favorite food.
but sadza ignites community.
the kitchen crowds as people gather to help prepare the meal. someone grabs a great pot and dumps pound after pound of corn meal inside. the pot is large, they say, because you never make just a little sadza. and when it's ready, the main dish is a finger food, the ultimate evolution of the potluck. grubby fingers go at it, glopping the sadza in delicious tomatoey-onion sauce; everyone is united in their forklessness.***
yes, sadza is a fitting end to the era. beth, mari, nora, and whitney's decision to prepare sadza seems emblematic of their heart for community (also see this post from 2005), of their friendly openness to people like me. and this sadza approach to life worked.
indeed, it has inspired phrases that you'd see in yearbook scribblings: fun parties (which i used to consider an oxymoron), caroling, talking about guys (errrrrrr...perhaps i mean listening to talk about guys), taking trips, eating too many vegetables, performing sufjan, watching lost....
you know, getgirls.com is right: it pays to be friends with your girlfriend's roommates.
addendum
i was also hoping to say some words about whitney. i think we'll all miss whitney's honesty, her enthusiasm, her encouragement, her funny mannerisms, and her devotion to her friends, and we know she'll settle in well down in cali.
(the links are to other posts about whitney and to other posts with whitney pictures).
the s.o. "soccer skillz" seattle, wa. [PS these are very, very closely cropped pictures; thus the poor quality]
***well, almost everyone. as much as i love this metaphor, there are those that choose to wield silverware, and they don't spoil the community by doing so. some may think them stubborn or contentious, but really they're just adding their personal flare to the event.****
****in case you couldn't tell, i eat sadza with a spoon.
please comment if you have other thoughts or yearbook-like comments on the girls of 79th or whitney.
election time is coming soon and only one thing is certain, i intend to vote NO on i-91 (more on that later). otherwise, i'm characteristically indecisive. i watched a podcast of the cantwell-mcgavick debate and learned a few things: cantwell is a brownnoser, mcgavick wants to build a wall between mexico and california, and there is no clear choice for senate this year. it's too bad mike the mover didn't win the democratic primary.
i assume that i'm not the only undecided voter out there--what if you fence-walkers could get a little voting practice before the election? (that'd be great, you say.) well, here's your chance. i'll play secretary of state sam reed, you don your voter's gown (i couldn't think of anything that's particularly related to voting, but i'm sure that if you are at all patriotic, you must have a voting gown), and we'll get ready to shape some 17 point scale policy.
you've probably noticed that i don't shy away from writing about my friends and acquaintances. i don't gossip (do i?), but i occasionally say some strange things. moreover, i tend to use full names. after chatting with some of my readers, i'm starting to get the impression that not everyone is as gung-ho about last names as i am. for instance, my roommate asked that i not include his full name on the blog. mark explained that he would really prefer to have no information in the public sphere, especially in a permanent, easily-navigable space like the internet. my compromise at the time was "mark t-mandl" (see the well-placed hyphen). perhaps there are other marks out there.
here's my defense for continuing the current policy (or lack thereof):
1. it's my blog, i should feel free to do whatever i want (yikes!).
2. i'm not sure that the 17 point scale fits into any particular genre, but if it were caged into one category, it might be the memoir, close cousin to the autobiography, and therefore, in a rather loose sense, this is journalism; it is a swirling matter of facts, names, and dates that somehow form a broad narrative of, to nearly quote my officemate james o'connell, "the entity that we call" andrew david, and to strip me of my friends is somehow dishonest as a writer and a person (okay, i got a little carried away with that sentence, sorry).
3. although i may share odd things about my friends, i don't write negatively about them.
4. to this end i occasionally consult beth or other friends on posts where the personal content might be in anyway objectionable
5. my audience is primarily composed of people that know me and therefore tend to know one another; thus, the posts are more meaningful to my readers if they can say "boris! i remember boris, he was that chunky fellow who hung out with andrew at the taco time...."
6. likewise, even if readers are unfamiliar with my circle of friends, if they are 17 point scale fanatics, they could begin to get a sense of the frequent 17 point scale guests, and thereby have a more nuanced connection with the blog.
7. what's the use of having labels for every entry if you can't put people's names there?
8. and, most selfishly, i LOVE that if you happen to google kris purganan, MY blog is the first hit. I can't really explain how cool this is to me. it just sucks that "andrew david" still doesn't return a hit in the first 500 entries.
so what do you think? you can vote with a show of hands, but it'd probably be easiest if you leave me a comment. should i maintain my current protocol and do nothing? should i use first names only? should i use no names at all? should i ask people before using their full/partial name in my blog? should i email everyone who has previously appeared in the 17 point scale and ask them if they want their name removed? also, if you would like to email me privately about the modification of your name, feel free to do so...
andrew david. "an odd method of voting" mt pilchuck, wa.
381 to go.
as many of you know, i spent the last 3 years working as a research coordinator for the COGS, a multi-site study of schizophrenia. then, earlier this summer, a research angel came to relieve me of my COGS protocols, scheduling duties, and crashing database. i was delighted. but although i expected ms. sara goodnow to do a dynamite job in my place, i never expected her to be such a valuable asset to the 17 point scale. indeed, it turns out that sara bowls a 120, heralds from rural new york, and is dating a doctoral engineering student. these attributes make her unequivocally qualified as an informant in my latest blogging pursuit, an autobiographical biography of the other andrew (or something like that).
the felicity of sara was revealed at an off-site lunch on an otherwise gray day. seeking respite from another slice of hospital pizza, sara and i tumbled from sean's honda prelude into a philly cheesesteak dive on airport way. we made our way to the counter and pondered the menu. behind the cash register, a woman fixed me with an icy stare--apparently this wasn't the city of brotherly love. i mumbled an order. she frowned and thrust her open palm toward me. scrambling for my wallet i promptly forgot whether i had ordered the medium or large. "goose-chicken," i thought, "i really would prefer the medium," but she was already taking sean's order. "yikes." if this wasn't philly, then where was the characteristic seattle friendliness?
afraid for my food, i swallowed my curiosity. things were getting grim. in retrospect, i suppose that meant we were ripe for a miracle. after all, we tend to notice the light when it's dark not in the daylight. when our sandwiches arrived, we discussed our evening plans. a momentary burn in my throat tore my attention from the conversation. hmmmmmm, horse radish. after a swig of water, i looked up to hear sara talking of engineers, "i don't know," she drawled, "they're just really quiet...maybe it's a brainy awkwardness...."
as sara's words trailed off, my mind snapped into blog mode. yes, i thought, whether they be english profs, computer geeks, or [fill in a random intellectual stereotype, e.g., engineers], brainiacs seem to lack the natural rhythms of everyday conversation. chatting with smart folks is a bit like my morning commute. you crawl sluggishly forward, hit an open stretch after the aurora bridge, take the harbor island exit into gridlock, and then escape into the steady streets of beacon hill. start, stop, start, stop. such conversations are intriguing yet strained.
and, until recently, i would have lumped the other andrew into this category. after all, i rarely watched him interact with others, and our conversations tended to hover in a state of friendly, well-meaning awkwardness. but in the last months, i've realized that this impression of andrew is more likely an indicator of how i respond to people that i perceive as brainy than a true picture of the other andrew. perhaps it's a bit of what sociologists like to call the self-fulfilling prophecy. i think, "wow, that person is wicked smart," and then begin to waiver in my conversational confidence. i flip the censorship switch and suddenly all of my questions, all of my odd quirky perspectives, all of my conversation kindling are deemed irrelevant; they are turned to an invisible mush. perhaps then my ineptitude makes smart person uncomfortable, and, somehow sensing that i expect them to be incapable of anything but dull nerd-speak, they too stall.
if this sounds crazy, consider the following evidence from our case study: (a) over the last few months i have learned that andrew is surprisingly quite gregarious; he laughs, he quips, he speaks thoughtfully; indeed, he seems perfectly comfortable in conversation; (b) actually, my first point has so convinced me that i don't feel the need to continue with this list.
so "where do we go from here? the words are coming out all weird. where are you now when i need you...?"
andrew david. "laughing at andrew's camera skills and blogging troubles" mount pilchuck, wa.
539 to go.
i don't really know what to blog about at the moment. it's been about a year, and perhaps i'm running out of things to say. here are some ideas that i've had in the past -- if any of these sound interesting let me know:
1. the james philosophy of life (and drugs)
2. the world breathes shadows
3. lectio divina ("these days we conduct church a lot like the late show...")
4. an exploding candleholder ("a candle just exploded. a loud crack...")
5. marriage a la alex
6. annoying noises while in the bathroom
7. shawshank redemption stuff
8. thoughts on life, flatland, and my grandpa ("i remember edwin a. abbott as the wicked writer of '96")
9. the superbowl ("i hope you will pardon one last moment with the seahawks...")
and some newer ideas that i had in the last 30 seconds:
1. 30 minutes of thinking a day, the other andrew way
2. the seahawks o line and today's trade
3. another first essence poem
4. 48 h saturation: getting to know you
5. racoons and walruses
6. okay, this is getting ridiculous
andrew david "a handshake from whitney" puget island, wa.
Andrew David 'Some of us were Present on that Day' Portland
see later updated post of this picture
Andrew David 'None of us were Present that Day' Portland
Andrew David 'A bit of History without a Tripod' Boston.
*Andrew David 'Sugary Pretzel Hands' Seattle (Zoo).
