Sunday, September 10, 2006
Brilliant Stupidity
Sometimes I feel brilliant. Often, I think this is only the result of clawing my way out of a fit of stupidity. My mental capacity seems to ebb and flow, much as the character in my book (read below). After not having internet for two days (what EVER were we to do!?), with Ms. Write Again Soon passed out for a good many hours, I finally realized that if we no longer had a workable wireless signal bringing the internet to us, I should GO TO THE INTERNET!
So here I am, camped out on the roof of the condo, watching the waves hit the breakers, and drinking a Sam Adams. Time to post what I penned so many hours ago:
Time here on the (slightly grungy) north shore of Oahu has become almost timeless. Hours and days bleed together, populated by occasional exploring or swimming, frequent reading [Life of Pi], and copious sleeping. I have had to struggle to know what day it is, and even how many days we have been here.
The last vestige of connection to our cyclical lives--our internet connection--failed completely yesterday, and now we have only laptops and the memory of their former capabilities. In spite of this, I'm brushing ants off my screen and briefly jotting down these few thoughts before returning to my book and my lunch--both in silence that is unnatural for me, but greatly pleasing. I'll post this eventually. Time is forgiving.
I still talk to MOSI back east--and the distance, the vacation, and his words have greatly fortified me against any irrational concerns that hung over my head last week, amidst the haze of pre-travel stress. I was perhaps at my most annoyingly needy the night before I left. Having some perspective now I'm a bit embarrassed by that. The last thing I need is to either expose myself to that discomfort or impose that added demand upon him. With our opportunities to reunite drawing close, I'm happily tending my soul back to a place that appreciates what I have.
Work beckons, I imagine, but even that has great prospects. My business here will be utterly easy, having the Columbus trip as a dry run. I have a pro bono project I desperately need to act on, and I think tomorrow morning will provide just such an opportunity. When I return to the office, we have someone new starting in just 5 short weeks. What joy!
So for the meantime, I am going to return to my book. Poor Pi is lost at sea. I feel so intimately connected to him, as the taste of saltwater is freshly on my lips and the smell in my nostrils, even as the story Pi's similar exposures through my mind.
So here I am, camped out on the roof of the condo, watching the waves hit the breakers, and drinking a Sam Adams. Time to post what I penned so many hours ago:
Time here on the (slightly grungy) north shore of Oahu has become almost timeless. Hours and days bleed together, populated by occasional exploring or swimming, frequent reading [Life of Pi], and copious sleeping. I have had to struggle to know what day it is, and even how many days we have been here.
The last vestige of connection to our cyclical lives--our internet connection--failed completely yesterday, and now we have only laptops and the memory of their former capabilities. In spite of this, I'm brushing ants off my screen and briefly jotting down these few thoughts before returning to my book and my lunch--both in silence that is unnatural for me, but greatly pleasing. I'll post this eventually. Time is forgiving.
I still talk to MOSI back east--and the distance, the vacation, and his words have greatly fortified me against any irrational concerns that hung over my head last week, amidst the haze of pre-travel stress. I was perhaps at my most annoyingly needy the night before I left. Having some perspective now I'm a bit embarrassed by that. The last thing I need is to either expose myself to that discomfort or impose that added demand upon him. With our opportunities to reunite drawing close, I'm happily tending my soul back to a place that appreciates what I have.
Work beckons, I imagine, but even that has great prospects. My business here will be utterly easy, having the Columbus trip as a dry run. I have a pro bono project I desperately need to act on, and I think tomorrow morning will provide just such an opportunity. When I return to the office, we have someone new starting in just 5 short weeks. What joy!
So for the meantime, I am going to return to my book. Poor Pi is lost at sea. I feel so intimately connected to him, as the taste of saltwater is freshly on my lips and the smell in my nostrils, even as the story Pi's similar exposures through my mind.
