dendrobium spectabile



this gorgeous photo is copyrighted by Eric Hunt; go check out his nicely-organized site for lots more like it

Y'all know how excited I get when people discover new species of anything. Not just beetles and monkeys and weird fish, though--how about thirty new-to-science orchids in Papua New Guinea?

This is the weekend where the world appeared to go mad. I think the apex of the surreality came for me this afternoon in Berkeley, when just as AX was pointing out a man dressed in a penis costume (complete with inflated testicles at ankle height) who was accosting passers-by and asking them if they were new to Berkeley, a woman in a diamond-patterned sweater vest accosted us to ask if we were members of the Society for Creative Anachronism, presumably because we both have long hair and were nattily dressed (he in his black suit with tie, I in a charcoal turtleneck and straight black skirt).

There'd been other stuff, of course, like my nearly falling off my banquette at brunch because it wasn't fastened down, and more than the usual complement of mumblng, raving strangers, and a person I'd thought was my friend totally going off the deep end Friday and leaving me to hike around in the dark late at night in lovely suburban Lafayette, wondering where the hell the BART station was. A friend we saw at the theater confirmed that everyone she knows seems to be a little stranger than usual. She chalked it up to the seasonal change.

I don't know. I have no answers. Has anyone else felt particularly edgy or unsettled? Or seen it in the people around them?

mets or cards, it doesn't matter

We're going to the Series! News that made my shift ever so much better. One of the other bartenders found out for me, holding his phone below the level of the bar to check the score.

Part of this is that my dad got to see the game when the Tigers won their last Series, twenty-two years ago. He walked home from Tiger Stadium to 8120 Jefferson, a mile from the UAW headquarters--no small feat--in a delirium as people ripped out the stadium's seats and set cars on fire around him. That night he was so happy. My dad who played softball with a team from work, who taught me how to pitch and catch and hit.

But part of it is this completely atavistic thing, a piece of my theory that we do still hold place-based tribal identities even as we deny it. And our sports teams are the obvious manifestation of our tribal roots, our paid warriors.

Also, Justin Verlander's kind of cute, for 6'5" and 200.

hello, phoenix!

The wifi's free at Sky Harbor airport, which is pretty cool.

Some of the "Tangy Fruit" Lifesavers Gummies flavors are okay. Besides the one that tastes like licking a urinal cake. Unfortunately, I wasn't looking when I took that one out of the bag, so I'm not sure yet if it's the green or the yellow.

My connection is late, and now they're telling us that because of "weight distribution" issues they've have to rearrange some of the seating arrangements. And could the following passengers please approach the podium? Do you think they want to look over said passengers and try to guess how much they weigh?

The past week has been so intense I can't begin to cover it. But I trust that you are all well, and hopefully I'll be back up and blogging soon. Right now I think they need to weigh me.