memory and meaning

I passed a woman trying to lead a gaggle of kids on bikes on my way home for lunch today, and it brought to mind a near-ancient memory of a bike accident I had when riding on the back of my mother's bike when I was tiny: younger than five, at the very least.

We were on a country highway near the house we lived in at the time, and most of what I can remember involves gravel, and dust, and movement, and hurt.

From around the same time, I remember getting bitten by the across-the-street neighbor's dog, though that one mostly involves images of their front yard and running down their driveway.

I think I remember happier things, like playing with our German shepherd in the snow in front of the house, but that one I can't be sure wasn't ingrained in me from seeing the photo my mother took of it or not.

I'm pretty sure I remember a meal with my grandparents (mother's side) in attendance, at least, at the big dining room table, and my grandfather urging me to finish my meal so I could belong to the Clean Plate Club.

I remember parts of my fifth birthday very clearly, including one view of our patio from the sliding glass door, right before I ran in, fell, and split my head open on one of our wrought-iron chairs. Stitches on my birthday, no less.

But most of these have moments of crispness in between a lot of haze, and I sometimes wonder if everyone's memory works like that. Mine works much like a series of still images, like a photo album, and because of this, I think I know why my data is so important to me: my memories are tied up in it. My photos and writing work as ciphers: keys to open lock-boxes way back in my brain.

So I think it's through my writing and pictures that I remember best. Things that I don't write down or capture visually tend to fade, but the problem with that is that those things end up being subject to revision. The way I write it becomes more ingrained than the original memory, and thus better remembered. If I leave out a detail, it's more likely to be forgotten. But then again, if I don't re-read that bit of writing recording an event, it's subject to the same rules as a memory I haven't recorded, other than a little bit of reinforcement from having to put it into words to get it down in the first place.

Of course, there are things that aren't like that, and weren't recorded, but I still remember: these earliest memories are an example. I don't think I ever wrote about these, and other than the snow picture, none were photographed. These were only in oral history at best, and just in my head at worst. Though I do remember my mother jesting about my grandfather's "Clean Plate Club," so it's possible that I matched that up with an image from memory--I just find it really hard to be sure.

This realization starts to pull the rug out from under me if I ponder it too long: if what I remember isn't real, then what is? But then I also manage to input into the equation that it's always been like this, and it probably is for others, and they don't seem too bothered by it.

And in some ways, it works for me, since I do write, and I do take photographs extensively. And I can even--to some extent--preserve the memory of others this way.

In college, I took a course on oral history. During it, I did a project with my aunt, who lived in Denmark during World War II along with my dad and the rest of his immediate family. She was quite a bit older than he at the time, though, and remembered more from the time. I talked to her about the experience, then wrote it up for that class. This came up in conversation with my uncle a while back, who encouraged me to find that paper because he wanted a copy. I also want to read it again too, since she's gone now, and that written documentation may be all there is left of it (though I imagine she'd talked about it with others). But it's in an ancient laptop that's not entirely stable, and I haven't taken the time to try to dig it out of there yet. I should.

But it makes me realize how much of my life (and my recordings of others' lives) is tied up as data. And realize why computers dying on me fills me with such panic whenever it happens--because that's my memory. That's part of me. I could certainly live without it, but I don't want to lose more than I have to.

And I'm out of time here, but I have to say that examining all this really makes me want to go out and get another external hard drive, just in case my backup dies. It also reminds me that I should do some further backing up soon. This brain doesn't run on its own, you know.

Weather and office shenanigans

So I headed home for lunch today. My timing's impeccable: I started driving back just as the sky let loose. I had a hard rain accompaniment all the way to campus, when it let up to a gentle but steady sprinkle.

I had brought my umbrella into my office this morning, but hadn't taken it with me back to the car during lunch. And guess who brilliantly decided to wear a white shirt with her skirt this morning?

Hi: that would be me.

I even further appreciate the fact that the door leading to my office is right inside the stairwell now. Not that it was a big deal.

Though I don't think it's raining presently, I can see another wave coming: the darkness having just crested over the nearest mountain range that I can see from my office window. I'm still getting used to this view: I switched offices recently, to one office back in the suite. It's nice: tucked away, a little more quiet, better furnished, less of a bowling alley layout, but it is down a window compared to my last office, which I do miss. But I still do like it.

week in review, week in preview

A few quick notes this morning:

This is the part about a storm season that I love: when the oppressive heat and humidity is broken one morning, and though the clouds are low and drizzling over the mountains in the distance, the scudding clouds above you are broken by gaps filled with sunlight. When you can open a window and catch a breeze just tinged (but not heavily ridden) with the next shower.

When it's a temperature comfortable to humans. Well, me in specific.

Today's one of those rare days when I wear a skirt just because (though I'll admit that they're certainly cooler).

Got back from the last conference mid-week last week, which was in Hershey, where the hotel provides you with enough chocolate to drown a horse if you want it. Upon check-in and check-out, they hand you two chocolate bars. A basket full of chocolate was their answer to a housekeeping screw-up (they swiped my soap by accident). Rather than the hard candies that some conference locales provide next to the water in the back of the session rooms, they provided a selection of Hershey's chocolate. You get the idea. It was a refreshing change when on the last day, they served cheesecake for dessert: regular cheesecake, with strawberries, and no chocolate.

This week's already been a bit of a whirl, and only promises to get worse. Yesterday, a long-time Internet friend and virtual sister who I'd never met in person was in town, ostensibly to visit and tour the university, but also to spend time, which was extra nice.

Reached home to find a package and envelope of news clippings from my dad (got it, and it works!), which I was intending to call him about but didn't due to online drama having happened while I was out of touch Sunday night sometime after I went to work at the club. I called to give one person involved some moral support and catch up a bit, which ate up much of the night, it felt like.

Wednesday some of us are having a gathering that will eat up that night, and on Friday most of that group (including me) will be going to Pittsburgh for a concert, the details of which I still haven't heard, given that it's being organized by a gal one of my friends is seeing but she lives in Philadelphia (I've only met her once). Hopefully it'll work out, though. Another online friend saw the band in question in NYC recently, and gives the tour a firm two thumbs up. Hopefully we'll get a similar performance.

New Orleans pictures, part the third

Though I'm about to leave for another conference, I wanted to note this before I ran out the door.

One of my New Orleans pictures has been solicited for a book, Signs of Life, by a couple I've never met, through the beauty of easily-searched photos online (thank you, Flickr, and thank you, tagging). Here's that shot:



I took that when my host took me on a drive through St. Bernard parish. It was eye-opening. I have lots of shots where that came from, but I have to say it was an uneasy experience. Yes, I wanted to document it, yes, I wanted those shots both to help me remember and to show others, but at the same time, these are peoples' homes. And I was just a tourist.

As for the book, I'm still not really sure how I feel about it. Sure, it's flattering, and sure, I submitted the shot, but this certainly isn't as much about the shot as it is about the subject matter there. I just happened to catch it. And I think there are much better "Signs of Life" from the area, but this is what they chose--the signs people put out to signal how they're dealing. The signs that let everyone know that people were back--or that they'd abandoned the area. There were plenty of those, too. Most residents, those that stayed, met that abandonment with heavy disdain, though.

I don't have a conclusion here (and take that as an overarching statement), but I've got to run or I'll miss my carpool to Hershey, where in addition to the conference, I'll probably get to meet up with a few folks I know primarily online. One I've met before (in New Orleans, in fact), and the other I haven't. Both are fantastic gals, though. I'm just hoping our schedules work out.

con season

Yes, kids, it's con season once again. Conferences, conventions: looks like I'll be hitting up both again this year, but mostly the former. Already hit up the Penn State Admissions Conference, just today finished the Penn State Web Conference, and next week is PACAC (Pennsylvania Association for College Admissions Counseling). Needless to say (and not too much different than normal), I may be a bit scarce.

Today's conference was impressive. Excellent speakers: great ideas, well-presented. Frankly much better than yesterday's pre-conference sessions, but that may be more due to the format than anything else--a tired me and four-hour-long tutorials do not mix well.

During the conference, I talked a bit with colleagues from Student Aid, after which one offered to meet up and exchange notes on different sessions, and others offered to loan me a few books that I might want to pick up. Very nice of them. After the conference, I sat for a bit at Legends with the keynote speaker and some of the presenters and organizers (plus one that I'm not sure qualified as either), rather by accident. I'd only intended to sit at the bar and quiz one of the presenters briefly. Only after I settled in did I realize who else was sitting with him, but I certainly wasn't going to turn down an invite to join them when they shifted to a table, especially since I hadn't really found an opening to start asking questions at that point (nor did I, but that's another story). An exceptionally pleasant bit of hanging out ensued, especially considering that I knew absolutely none of them beforehand. The conversation bounced between a whole bunch of different subjects I enjoy: blogging and fiction writing, new web developments and how the University can use such, as well as some banter about semi-current events at Penn State and filling in the speaker on those bits he wasn't familiar with. Excellent stuff, and rather got me interested in getting more involved in that community. I'd forgotten how easy it is to talk to people that are interested in similar things both professionally and personally, but I suspect that has a lot to do with being overloaded and rather sequestered out in Admissions.

Here's to being not quite so much so anymore, with the arrival of the new writer.

New Orleans pictures, part the second

Yes, I know the sign's a little skewed in this view (had to do it to fit this layout). Click it to view it at a more normal size (and read the sign).



I believe I found this fierce creature in the Marigny. And probably had gotten on the nerves of my host by that point because I stopped so much without saying a word. Eventually I got the hang of saying "stopping for a sec," but early on, I'd just pause to take the shot.

New Orleans pictures, part the first

I've realized that I don't think I'll have the large chunk of time necessary to really tell this story the way I want to. Therefore, in order to at least show the pictures I promised, I'll just be dropping one in here every once in a while. Like this one:



Some things just go on as normal, like the wedding photos taking place on Jackson Square. I'm not sure if I saw unusual activity, though, given that it was Easter weekend while I was there.

quick week-in-review

I managed to screw up my spacebar this morning in trying to fix it, so forgive any mistakes, if you would.

Quick week-in-review:

Started the week with the Penn State Undergraduate Admissions spring conference. Got to see a couple of the campuses near Pittsburgh, which was good, since trying to explain them to students without ever having been there is otherwise a bit of a challenge. There was a session on Career Services there that sticks out in my memory: I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Career Services is relatively coordinated throughout our 20 undergraduate campuses, among other facts.

The night we were out there, our evening's entertainment was a trip to Dave & Busters at the Waterfront (think Chuck E. Cheese's for adults): I still have a blister from killing zombies with my grandboss. That is, we played an arcade game called House of the Dead 4 together. I also showed him Gauntlet, and he took a round with a Star Wars game that I watched. I still get a kick out of him, and I love the fact that afterward he went around to those we met up with saying, "you really owe us: we defended you from zombies back there."

Had a day's worth of tech training on Friday off-site, but an excellent conversation during lunch with the staff assistant I was there with, during which I found out a bunch of stuff that had occurred behind the scenes that I didn't really understand at the time, but now kind of have a grasp on. Office politics: I haven't really had time for it, or even chit-chat, since we lost the other writer. Thankfully, we should have her replacement on board within the next week.

I'm in the midst of moving between offices: my new one has fewer windows, but it's a prettier and quieter space, being less of a bowling alley layout (long and narrow) and farther away from where the student tour guides gather (I love them, but they're noisy every day that they're in--which is often every day, period).

Tonight I'm saturated with cigar smoke after a long stint in a room full of it, but I feel accomplished because I finished a full 28 inches of a new weave with a relatively new material--half-Persian in blackened stainless steel, a request from B., my host in New Orleans, who made me two bracelets while I was there, so I wanted to return the favor (and, for that matter, make some for myself). Now I just have to figure out what to do for the clasps. Normally I'd just use the same gauge wire that I used for the bracelet itself, but working in steel obviously isn't quite as easy. I'd take pictures of what I managed today, but I'm tired and my hands are pretty well shot. Even this typing kind of hurts, so I should probably quit pretty soon.

Also managed to see X-Men 3 today with a different combination of folks. Tomorrow's a picnic of some kind, and the usual Sunday djing gig, which promises to be a tad overwhelming. Not only is it a busy night, Monday being a holiday, but I think the guy I usually work with has either quit or been fired, and I'm not sure which, having heard from no one, but seen the schedule and noted that he's neither on this week or next. Not sure what's up with that. Guess I'll find out tomorrow night.

And yes, I know: NOLA pictures. I haven't forgotten. As soon as I can, but there's a bunch of stuff still in the way (including sending things I promised at least one person in particular from that trip, and the enormous 'net-aided mail swap I managed to rope myself into organizing having launched within the past week--I'm nuts, I know).

I tend to dive into way too many things at once. Have you noticed?

symbolism/MNO sidebar

Warning: contains graphic descriptions of blisters. Continue at your own risk.

I had my weekly yoga class today, and noted that the New Orleans blister^TM is in its final stages: completely separated from the new skin beneath, cracking, and dry. It's also amazingly thick: I was shocked. The pinprick I put in it while I was down there to drain it has developed into a decent-sized hole.

I suppose it's relevant to understand how big this blister was/is. It took up most of the ball of my left foot, running farther down the side than it did along my toes, and it went all the way up in between my big and second toe.

This was not the fault of my shoes, I might add. I brought the best shoes for walking that I have: my comfy kicking-around Børns and my Dansko clogs, which have better support (thus again demonstrating my preference for all things Danish--lucky they make such great shoes). It was the fault of me not walking enough at home, and ramping up to an incredible amount of on-my-feetness literally overnight. The last two days I was there, my feet had gotten used to it.

In any case, I had noticed that this blister had reached this stage a few days ago, and I took it as another sign that I was done processing and assimilating the experience and ready to share it.

But then, I'm like that, some of the time.

In those moments, I'm connective--I tend to find links between things that perhaps shouldn't be, and symbolism where there's only practicality.

Case in point: I came home one day to find three or four bees/yellowjackets/wasps/I-can't-tell-them-apart,so-whatever dead right outside my front door. One half of my brain immediately exclaimed "this must mean something," but moments later the other half of my brain thwapped the first and said sarcastically "it means they sprayed today, stupid."

You see my point.

So there you have me: demonstratably halved, one part that wants the world to be full of mysticism and symbolism, and the other that's supremely rational.

Which will win? Stay tuned to find out.

Pictoral

Also, while browsing Flickr, I found several great photo sets taken around Penn State. Linkage occurs here:

Flat Stanley's tour
A native's view
A photographer's viewpoint
A visitor, I think, during ArtsFest (though no ArtsFest shots are featured)

Missing New Orleans, part the second

A thought occurred to me the other day, when I was driving and caught a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye. I don't know if it's permanent, but I know that for awhile at least, I will never be able to associate that color of blue with anything other than FEMA tarps.

And it's not that they're everywhere, though there are a lot of them. They're clustered in the spots that were hardest hit, but when they're clustered like that, it's hard to miss them. And then you see them intermittently elsewhere, and it's like your brain gets used to that background noise. Now that I'm home, and that particular shade of blue is more rare, they stand out like a bellow in a library.

Missing New Orleans, part the first

I finished Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans? yesterday during my lunch hour. Afterwards, I thought "now I'm ready."

And there's so much to say that I feel like I could write entries upon entries about it. There seems to be at least one entry for virtually every part of me: photographer, art-, architecture-, food- and music-lover, activist, humanist, cynic (yes, I know the latter two conflict), feminist, geek, people-watcher and general observer. Writer, of course, but that's rampant due to the whole bit about these entries being written now, isn't it?

But this will certainly take more than one entry is what I meant to point out here. Time constraints may keep them pretty short. We'll see how this goes.

New Orleans pre-thoughts

Going back through photos from the neighborhoods I explored in New Orleans, I'm still at a kind of loss.

I tend to try to lead an examined life, but when I try to examine this, when I try to wrap my head around it, something just stops.

And there's this stillness. Eye in the center of the storm. There's so much around it that I fear I can't take it all in, that I won't be able to digest it all.

But that may be the lesson, right there. Sometimes it's beyond you, and that's okay. And sometimes you just go on with life as usual, and that's okay too. It's necessary, even. To continue. For the cycle of seasons to begin again.

And they will. And New Orleans will get through this. It will. It has to, if only to spite the naysayers. And from what little I learned of some of the people down there, they're like that. They'll thumb their noses just for the sake of pride.

And I'd do it right with them if they'd let me.

odd

It's telling that I still think "Aunt A. would approve" at odd moments, prompted by odd subjects. I still wonder what her opinion would be on things.

Today's odd subject? My soap.

Yes, I realize that I'm an odd duck.

lakes and mountains

NOLA posts still forthcoming. I'm still in the midst of working through 3.5 gigs worth of pictures to accompany them.

As a side note: I love having good dental insurance. I hate that my jaw is still sore from it, though.

I ran home for lunch today. Upon exiting again to come back, I smelled a lake.

There are no lakes in this region.

A couple of workers were doing something to the sidewalk pavement a few doors down involving a power sprayer of some sort, as well as some other equipment. The combination of gas and airborne water particles smelled just like the lakefront where my dad lives on some days. The fact that the wind was blowing a bit and the sun shining helped too, I'm sure. It's strange--the addition of the gas makes it not necessarily a good smell, but at least one I associate with good things. And water spray--well, who can argue with that? It makes you feel like you're on vacation, even if it's just the lakefront of your hometown.

I rather lament the fact that there aren't any good large bodies of water nearby. One of our interns just wrote a story about our crew team, which of course emphasized that fact, so it's been in mind for a bit lately. But then, there I never had the pressure in my ears pop on the way to and from work, as it does here each day. Which is strange, because we're in a relatively flat area--a valley between ranges. Bellefonte's hillier than State College, really. Some of the roads there are truly frightening on first drive-through: there's one in particular that just drops from beneath you, so for a few seconds you truly cannot see where you're headed. But it is a minor thrill, of course.

I appreciate mountains, but I also like lakes. Makes me think that I might be better off out West: Colorado or Washington or Northern California or some such. Though those bring with them their own complications, of course. Cost of living being a big one.

Enough rambling. Back to it.

quick-like, from NOLA

This trip has gone extremely well thus far. The one exception is that my feet haven't held up entirely to my liking, but I've also been walking an amazing amount each day compared to my usual. I'm blessed to have a wonderful host, as well as some great friends to catch up with, as well as a bonus of the option of time alone to explore each day if I want it--but only if I want it. Though I usually do.

I'd write more, but I think a concert looms, and I wouldn't miss this one for the world.

laughing at work and a stadium visit

So as I was walking in from my car this morning, my grand-boss passed me in his minivan. When he saw me, he started waving like a maniac, which made me laugh. He tends to do that (make me laugh, that is), and it's so refreshing to work with someone like that.

As soon as he got in, he stopped by my office and said, "I was trying to be one of those happy morning people, but I think I just managed to hurt my shoulder. No more of that." Kidding around, of course.

Have I mentioned I adore working with this guy?

As a side note, I finally managed to make it into our stadium, after five years of living here. A few weeks ago, our intern (a football fan--or at least, a Nittany Lion fan) said she wanted to do a story about the stadium, wanted to go inside and see the parts most people don't see. So we did. I went with to shoot photos.

It's actually a little spooky when it's completely empty. But we poked our noses into the locker room, done in carpet and wood, and, I thought at least, exceptionally beautifully done. We saw the media room, the different clubs (one for former players, one that could be bought into), and the president's suite, as well as the club boxes, which are amazing. They have windows down the front that can be rolled up so you're virtually outside (but under cover, too), movie theatre-style seating, couch, mini-kitchen, etc. Pretty amazing amenities. I'd never realized how much that whole end works like a hotel--they even have a concierge on each floor.

We even went out onto the field, an experience that was probably pretty well wasted on me. Post-season, the marks are taken off the field, so it's just an expanse of grass surrounded by empty seating. There were some potential recruits also on the field with us, down at the other end--juniors in high school--that held impromptu races across the field. When I started taking pictures of them, the one guy that wasn't going to participate decided he had to, once he realized I was taking shots. Amusing, but probably won't gain him much fame, since not only did I not get their names, but the shot probably won't even make it into the feature. It's a pretty good shot, with one in full stride, perfect form, but the others kind of ruin it--two are in-process on their forward step, and their arms are down, so it looks like they're jogging at best, and the third (the one who snuck in at the last second) had kicked off his non-running shoes, so he's in his stocking feet on the grass, which looks a little odd. And, of course, they're all in jeans, just mucking about.

They were also really small for football players, all of them, but of course I realize they're just in high school, that they've still got time to grow. But from the time I tutored one of our linebackers and saw his pencil disappear in his grasp, their size has always impressed me. And it's reflected in the locker room--all the showerheads are way, way, high--as are the controls for them. Inconveniently high for me (and I don't consider myself short), but probably perfect for them.

That feature will probably go up at the end of the month in the student life section of our website, but the intern that wrote it heavily self-edited, I think, and understandably so--very few of the people that read these will ever see the inside of these boxes.

In any case, I know I never will again. Football: not my thing.

more snow

I left home this morning to find my car covered in snow, and snow still falling. Isn't it March that's supposed to be in like a lion, out like a lamb?

The sun's shining beautifully, even though it's below freezing and still snowing. On the drive in, the ridge beyond Mount Nittany was completely obscured by the clouds and snow. Checking my window now, though, it seems to be slowly moving on.

This next week is going to be more than a little bonkers, since I leave in a week for New Orleans and have way too much to do before then. Speaking of which, I should get on a few of those things. Maybe I'll report in from down there, where I sure hope I won't find more snow.

office wildlife

(editor's note: I know the photos below break my layout. I don't care. They're too good to crop down, in my humble opinion.)

Yesterday, as I walked in to the office, I noticed a large raptor hanging out in a tree near the back door, where I usually enter. After some hesitation, and pointing him/her out to someone else entering the building, I grabbed my camera.

I suspect the raptor in question is a relative of the one that hung out on the overhang while I took pictures from inside last spring sometime, but I can't be sure. I want to say they're both red-tailed hawks, but I haven't looked into it far enough to be certain.

Here's last year's visitor:


Here's this year's visitor (unfortunately backlit, so you can't see his/her markings that well):




S/he eventually tired of my clicking away below him/her, and flew off, leading to my favorite shot of the morning:

weather confusion

On Monday, we hit a record high for the day, at 76 degrees. Then yesterday, we had snow flurries that didn't just fall--they blew sideways. I woke up this morning to find a decent few inches of fluffy snow that I had to dig my car out of.

Couldn't it just pick one?