20 September 2007
15 September 2007
To Each His [sic] Own. Here's Mine.
In noting recently to a friend that I've not been blogging often, I pined that it was not so much lack of time as lack of witty insights, questions and observations to share that held me back. Said friend said, as only good friends say, "What makes you think anything you've already posted is witty?"
Lowest common denominator
So, having broadened my content filter to include criteria beyond "witty," today's entry follows a grand tradition in the blogosphere of (occasionally) sharing one of the author's favorite locales, eateries, foods, movies, and perhaps even clever turn of phrase. Whether to educate, entertain or just earn some karma, I share a little gem of the earth whose export likely won't be the basis of a Leo Dicaprio movie.
Today's inaugural expose' is: The Cornish Pasty Co.
Nestled into a strip mall in west Tempe, AZ, this bar/bakery serves a wide selection of English meals-in-a-bun (and drinks), including an entire menu page of vegetarian ones. (Made for, not of, vegetarians.) They were out of the veggie shepherd's pie today, so I had quite the scrumptious (if not historically authentic) "Veggie Mexican": Veggie ground Mexican spiced beef, egg, potatoes,and cheddar jack cheese. Served with sides of sour cream and salsa. Light and sweet crust, hot and well-mixed stuffing; very nice!
Having lived a year in, and fallen in love with, Manchester, England, it's not often I can get truly good food that takes me back. I've gotten a few nice rolls of biscuits at import stores, and have only missed a meal at Shakespeare's Pub on one visit to San Diego; so finding a nearby and quality taste of "abroad" was quite the thrill this midday! (Thanks, Brian!)
SUMMARY: Reasonable prices, lots of convenient hours, good service ("Do you want one or split checks?" and brought, unrequested, "to go" salsa and sour cream with the box!), and most importantly, a tasty pasty. Suitors could certainly take me here.
Lowest common denominator
So, having broadened my content filter to include criteria beyond "witty," today's entry follows a grand tradition in the blogosphere of (occasionally) sharing one of the author's favorite locales, eateries, foods, movies, and perhaps even clever turn of phrase. Whether to educate, entertain or just earn some karma, I share a little gem of the earth whose export likely won't be the basis of a Leo Dicaprio movie.
Today's inaugural expose' is: The Cornish Pasty Co.
Nestled into a strip mall in west Tempe, AZ, this bar/bakery serves a wide selection of English meals-in-a-bun (and drinks), including an entire menu page of vegetarian ones. (Made for, not of, vegetarians.) They were out of the veggie shepherd's pie today, so I had quite the scrumptious (if not historically authentic) "Veggie Mexican": Veggie ground Mexican spiced beef, egg, potatoes,and cheddar jack cheese. Served with sides of sour cream and salsa. Light and sweet crust, hot and well-mixed stuffing; very nice!
Having lived a year in, and fallen in love with, Manchester, England, it's not often I can get truly good food that takes me back. I've gotten a few nice rolls of biscuits at import stores, and have only missed a meal at Shakespeare's Pub on one visit to San Diego; so finding a nearby and quality taste of "abroad" was quite the thrill this midday! (Thanks, Brian!)
SUMMARY: Reasonable prices, lots of convenient hours, good service ("Do you want one or split checks?" and brought, unrequested, "to go" salsa and sour cream with the box!), and most importantly, a tasty pasty. Suitors could certainly take me here.
BTW, as the staff shirt's point out, the fare is correctly pronounced "past-tee." Extra points to the place for the English lesson!
25 August 2007
Where's Thomas?
This month marked the beginning of the new job, the new focus on graduate work and the schedule shift that both require. So, after several action-packed weeks of training, we launched the new school year with a gusto last week. As I teach very early --VERY early, and had to be on-campus every day last week for something, the month's gone quickly, and without any new posts.
Thankfully, most of the planet has gone about it's merry business none the worse for wear. In fact, probably only Brian has felt let down by my insensitive blog-silence. Unless my siblings happened by by mistake (auto-complete browser search bar be damned!).
1/2 of Heisenberg's Principle
So, a little visual something to engage, occupy, perhaps entertain and more importantly summarize the last month for you, my small --VERY small, reading public.
I give you, "Where's Thomas?"
Thankfully, most of the planet has gone about it's merry business none the worse for wear. In fact, probably only Brian has felt let down by my insensitive blog-silence. Unless my siblings happened by by mistake (auto-complete browser search bar be damned!).
1/2 of Heisenberg's Principle
So, a little visual something to engage, occupy, perhaps entertain and more importantly summarize the last month for you, my small --VERY small, reading public.
I give you, "Where's Thomas?"
01 August 2007
Mother Nature's a mean stylist
Just in time to meet my new classmates, students and faculty, it happens...
The Cumulo-nimbus coif
It's "monsoon season" here in the Valley of the Sun, which technically means that the humidity level and dew point (temperature) have met certain criteria for a period of time. Popularly and practically, this means that we have storms most afternoons after the day's heat build up creates tremendous thunderstorms.
I'm familiar with these afternoon "gutterwashers," from growing up in the US Southeast, where summer temperatures were a little lower, but humidity was much higher--adding up to the same kind of predictable weather on summer evenings. In New Orleans, we actually planned meetings to begin before and end well after the 3pm hour, so regular were these drenchings.
I bring this up for more than the fact that these storms are probably the most significant meteorological events in the area. (Remember, a single little stray cloud in our big blue sky any day of the year is enough to have our newscasters prattle on about the "weather" we're having...) No, more than being climate conversation pieces, the storms and the season more generally make my normally rather flat and shapeless hair go wild.
(Here, Brian and others will have emitted some audible expression of their disbelief, to accompany their rolling eyes and observation that my hair can never be accurately described as tame or graceful, under the best circumstances. Many people have commented, in fact, that the South Park Thomas graphic, used as my avatar here, does a good job capturing my 'do's likeness.)
All the hair gets wavy, which is not in itself problematic --though the extra body makes it look uncombed. It's that my bangs turn into a series of half-pipe/sine waves across my forehead, ending in a rather feathered flourish. Atop some more holistically over-the-top bird of paradise, it wouldn't be so bad. But I look (even more) like the follicled love child of many a bad '80s teen celebs.
Thankfully, I have no picture to offer. (I'm even less photophilic in humidity.) So instead, I'll share the photo that explains, definitively, while I H A T E dressing up:
The Cumulo-nimbus coif
It's "monsoon season" here in the Valley of the Sun, which technically means that the humidity level and dew point (temperature) have met certain criteria for a period of time. Popularly and practically, this means that we have storms most afternoons after the day's heat build up creates tremendous thunderstorms.
I'm familiar with these afternoon "gutterwashers," from growing up in the US Southeast, where summer temperatures were a little lower, but humidity was much higher--adding up to the same kind of predictable weather on summer evenings. In New Orleans, we actually planned meetings to begin before and end well after the 3pm hour, so regular were these drenchings.
I bring this up for more than the fact that these storms are probably the most significant meteorological events in the area. (Remember, a single little stray cloud in our big blue sky any day of the year is enough to have our newscasters prattle on about the "weather" we're having...) No, more than being climate conversation pieces, the storms and the season more generally make my normally rather flat and shapeless hair go wild.
(Here, Brian and others will have emitted some audible expression of their disbelief, to accompany their rolling eyes and observation that my hair can never be accurately described as tame or graceful, under the best circumstances. Many people have commented, in fact, that the South Park Thomas graphic, used as my avatar here, does a good job capturing my 'do's likeness.)
All the hair gets wavy, which is not in itself problematic --though the extra body makes it look uncombed. It's that my bangs turn into a series of half-pipe/sine waves across my forehead, ending in a rather feathered flourish. Atop some more holistically over-the-top bird of paradise, it wouldn't be so bad. But I look (even more) like the follicled love child of many a bad '80s teen celebs.
Thankfully, I have no picture to offer. (I'm even less photophilic in humidity.) So instead, I'll share the photo that explains, definitively, while I H A T E dressing up:
28 July 2007
The more things stay the same...
As I’ve gotten some press from good friend and blog (tor)mentor, Brian, I thought it would probably be a good idea to post again. (As that’s what bloggers do, and what he’ll grill me for not doing.) So, here’s the latest attempt at sufficiently-disclosive, on-demand drabble.
Alphi and omegi
The next two weeks mark a significant transition for me: the final switch from ‘worker’ back to ‘student’. It’s been 8 years since I made this far-reaching a change in my activities and experience, and though a meaningful shift in me, I’m looking forward to the new opportunities and the ~1 year countdown to “Doctor” me, and the likely employment and location changes that title will allow.
Yet, while the new school year looms, and my new life as full-time grad student ambles toward me, the summer and various other life items are coming to end:
Alphi and omegi
The next two weeks mark a significant transition for me: the final switch from ‘worker’ back to ‘student’. It’s been 8 years since I made this far-reaching a change in my activities and experience, and though a meaningful shift in me, I’m looking forward to the new opportunities and the ~1 year countdown to “Doctor” me, and the likely employment and location changes that title will allow.
Yet, while the new school year looms, and my new life as full-time grad student ambles toward me, the summer and various other life items are coming to end:
- Paycheck from full-time work. (Occasional bookstore and new TA checks are nice, but not quite so full-figured…)
- Long-planned student retreat (mentioned last post) went well, with a number of interesting mis-connects between students and faculty. Great colleagues; good work done; and the weather was lovely in San Jose. (Mentally clinging to those cool breezes…) It also was my last scheduled travel out of town, after a busy travel season.
- Just finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (or “HP7” as we say ‘in the industry’). FYI, the castle sinks, they all die…
So, in flux, here’s to balance!
17 July 2007
I just knew I'd be (statistically similar-looking to someone) famous some day!
I'm staffing a college student retreat this weekend and will teaching again this fall, and so (having been off-campus for a few solid months this summer) I've been trying to put myself back in those shoes again --back in the mindset of the traditionally college-aged student.
The shoes still fit, even if the pants don't any longer, and I got to thinking about what I expected from leadership retreats in my day. (I know I didn't expect email/web, much less Wi-fi, didn't have cell phones, and all our music came on cassettes and CDs, to be played in bulky boom-boxes or Walkmen.)
Nostalgia and a few cups of hot tea later (guess what else I didn't expect on college retreat?!), I actually looked through some old, scanned photos, and --long story short-- ended up doing celebrity look-a-like comparisons on the web....
Verisimilitude
Of the various ages I tried, I thought this one yield the most interesting results:
That's me on the left, in my professional "Area Director" photo for the opening of the residence halls in the fall of 1998 --my first full time job, post-Master's degree.
The celebs honored enough to have ME come up when they load their photos include, from top-bottom and left-right, IN DESCENDING ORDER OF SIMILARITY:
1 . Terence Howard (72% match)
2. Tom Cruise
3. Sophie Marceau
4. Adrien Brody
5. Jet Li
6. Hugh Grant
7. Camilla Parker-Bowles
-- Dermot Mulroney (not pictured)
8. Gael Garcia Bernal (at just under 60% match)
While generally pleased at the selections and their multiculturalism, I must say Ms Parker-Bowles was a bit of surprise. (Damn cups of tea!)
Other notables dopplegangers from various age-comparisons: (Turkish singer) Tarkan, actress Selma Blair, Jodie Sweetin (!!!), footballer Michael Owen, (New Zealand Prime Minister) Helen Clark, Backstreet Boy Brian Littrell, actor James Spader, singer Avril Lavinge and unlabel-able Mandy Moore.
Sadly, the "South Park me" (my profile pic) was "not recognized" as a having face by the MyHeritage software.
While I'm reliving my youth (or at least trying to keep up with theirs), take a gander and let me know who's living your 15 minutes for you...
The shoes still fit, even if the pants don't any longer, and I got to thinking about what I expected from leadership retreats in my day. (I know I didn't expect email/web, much less Wi-fi, didn't have cell phones, and all our music came on cassettes and CDs, to be played in bulky boom-boxes or Walkmen.)
Nostalgia and a few cups of hot tea later (guess what else I didn't expect on college retreat?!), I actually looked through some old, scanned photos, and --long story short-- ended up doing celebrity look-a-like comparisons on the web....
Verisimilitude
Of the various ages I tried, I thought this one yield the most interesting results:
That's me on the left, in my professional "Area Director" photo for the opening of the residence halls in the fall of 1998 --my first full time job, post-Master's degree.
The celebs honored enough to have ME come up when they load their photos include, from top-bottom and left-right, IN DESCENDING ORDER OF SIMILARITY:
1 . Terence Howard (72% match)
2. Tom Cruise
3. Sophie Marceau
4. Adrien Brody
5. Jet Li
6. Hugh Grant
7. Camilla Parker-Bowles
-- Dermot Mulroney (not pictured)
8. Gael Garcia Bernal (at just under 60% match)
While generally pleased at the selections and their multiculturalism, I must say Ms Parker-Bowles was a bit of surprise. (Damn cups of tea!)
Other notables dopplegangers from various age-comparisons: (Turkish singer) Tarkan, actress Selma Blair, Jodie Sweetin (!!!), footballer Michael Owen, (New Zealand Prime Minister) Helen Clark, Backstreet Boy Brian Littrell, actor James Spader, singer Avril Lavinge and unlabel-able Mandy Moore.
Sadly, the "South Park me" (my profile pic) was "not recognized" as a having face by the MyHeritage software.
While I'm reliving my youth (or at least trying to keep up with theirs), take a gander and let me know who's living your 15 minutes for you...
14 July 2007
All hail King of the Obvious!
Apparently, with these "blog" things you are supposed to regularly post new content. (In my day, we printed one edition of something and were happy with that....) So, lucky you:
Friday the Thirteenth
While I could step into most any Roman Catholic church in the world, and actively participate (in English) in the Mass, I am not a religious person. Though a keen survival instinct and significant OSHA training prevent my walking under ladders, I do not consider myself superstitious. And despite being told by numerous (likely self-identifying spiritual) people that I strike them as “spiritual,” I don’t feel it an apt description of me. (Nor right for them to accuse me of striking them in the first place.)
And yet, there are times when I cannot help but attend to clear messages delivered to me by the universe. For example, on my recent vacation to “down under, next door” the universe (in this instance taking the form of an accented shop owner) spoke to me, convincingly explaining why I HAD to have the cloak handmade by same weaver who'd made the costumes for a certain movie trilogy I enjoy more than ketchup.
An example you may more easily identify with is when one’s car loses power completely while driving down the street (as mine did tonight), and one is hard-pressed to miss the “take me to your mechanic” content of the situation. When this has happened twice already in the previous nine months, one also begins to see more subtle nuances emerging: namely “new mechanic” or perhaps, “Prius…”
Therefore, it ought not to have come as any surprise that the past few weeks have found a pattern increasingly less subtly hidden in my daily life:
- Within a week of one another, two professional acquaintances whom I rarely see have independently and proactively offered to set me up on sight-unseen dates with “nice” friends of theirs.
- My mother, not one to EVER ask about my social life, has acknowledged and since inquired about whether and how these dates are going.
- This week, a good friend ran into me at my favorite coffee shop, early for her own ‘date’, and we ended up spending a few hours comparing dating stories, looking through online personals for one another and bemoaning the general low level of good grammar among other singles.
Hmmm, spidey sense is tingling that despite needing to concentrate on 1) supporting myself through 2) finishing my doctorate in the next year as 3) a likely ticket out of the desert, could cupid be calling?
To be sure, there are many repeated messages in my life, many arriving by email, that I choose to ignore outright: “bigger!,” “grow hair,” “must stay the course in Iraq” and “UK lottery winner” among them. Others I do miss, however conspicuous they are; such as with my last significant other, who all but asked me out on our first meeting—an interest glaring to everyone else in the entire bar except yours truly.
So it stands to reason that, especially in the realm of romance, the gentle nudge from the universe couldn't possibly be so obvious as the past few weeks seem to suggest. (He didn't mind, and the friends still love telling the story, bless their hearts.)
But just in case, and hoping I haven’t mis-translated it all, I took a step and asked out a cute, nice and refreshingly self-aware and –expressive friend of a roommate of a friend of a friend, whom I met by accident last weekend. (Diagram THAT sentence!) If my google-stalking his email doesn’t scare him entirely, and I have correctly decoded the signs of late, today may turn out to have been less unlucky than it’s widely held to be.
So, chubby cherub of affection, Thomas has heard and answered the clue phone on this one.
You better not be calling just for directions. Or collect.
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