No Introduction Necessary

Friday Sept.30, I had planned to work eight hours, but was feeling the bitter tail-end (a man can hope) of this head-cold and arrived late. I had to predict how long the day would be for me, since my pay would be issued before the hours were logged. I said I'd leave at five, forgetting that John Vinci would probably have scheduled the Alumni Board meeting according to the Eastern Standard workday, and disregard mine. Being that this was the board meeting before the Annual Alumni Business Meeting with the general assembly of Alumni at Homecoming festivities, this board meeting was important. We would be announcing the need for a new organizational charter, and that announcement might cause a stir. I clocked out early, and three sixteen, and told myself I'd make it up later.

The Board meeting went well, and my personal concerns about the future financial independence of the Association from the College were heard and roundly agreed upon by everyone except the hedging Mr. Vinci. I spent the evening in a pleasant and somewhat carefree interview with the lovely Miss Spilker, and took in Amelie for the first time.

Saturday Oct.1 brought another teleconference to attend the Annual Business Meeting itself, this time at 6 a.m. I set my speakerphone and listened to people talk while I had coffee, smoked a pipe on the porch in some comfortable old jeans and Levi's thrift-store shirt, and made and consumed two eggs over easy. The first one I neatly cut apart, white from yolk, and took the latter in one bite, the second I entered whole, which was quite rewarding. The meeting was hard to picture, being far away and presumably held in the new building. I did say a piece about the Board's desire to accurately represent the alumni interests as a priority over the college's interests, should they be at odds, but my phone presence had to be interpreted to the audience, and my interpreter badly reworded my point such that I spent the next several days wishing I had not spoken at all. Meetings are hooey, but my morning was beautiful. Had a brief chat with Mrs. Emily Asbenson (née Holmes) about her life now and her husband's choice of law school. It was refreshing to catch up with such a pleasant college acquaintance after several years.

I made my way to work for the remainder of the morning, and through the noon hour making up all the lost time from the day previous. Went home, napped a bit, worked a lot on cleaning and organizing things, and a little on my freelance editing project, a.k.a. the book. A note about cleaning: shoes store well in shoe boxes.

Sunday Oct.2 was my first day at Hillview during their new two-service schedule, representing something of a contained hive-off. The schedule is confusing, but I managed to work a bit more on the book, meet over a late breakfast with the author and Mr. Adcock, my colleague in the project. Leaving our meeting a little while after noon, I attended the sermon by elder Kenrick Devaul, a delightful offering on the first part of St. Paul's second letter to Corinth. Breaking of bread service was also moving. I shared a bit, and commiserated with Mike Broussard and Osh Merjanian, who sat near me.

Lunch consisted of beer and lamb shawerma, and the afternoon I devoted to Miss Spilker. In the evening I felt a pluck of guilt for shirking the new Christian film in theatres, a hokey contrivance entitled Courageous. And Allan texted me "ARE YOU COMING?" So I went. It was edifying, and spending time with Sanjay Krishnaswamy, Dawn Tisdell, Dawson Gilson, of course Allan Kuo, and others over dinner at Denny's afterward was enjoyable.

Monday Oct.3 has been a bit of a gloomy, slow day so far. I have decided I will spend the rest of the week in a work-blitz, night and day, so be surprised if I have much to log between now and next Monday.

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More updates to come. Life got more exciting after this.

Paperist Interviewiary Inketty Scotchal Museumine Theatricality

Monday I went to work. Worked. Prepared for an interview. Didn't finish my paintings for color class. Wished I had, but they're not technically due till next Tuesday.

Tuesday morning at nine I had an evaluation on the draft of my final paper for my "today's working artist" class. My prof had questioned whether I could fit all of the history of poster art into five double-spaced pages, but he liked the paper and conceded that the only changes needed were of a grammatical nature. At ten I had an interview with the Marketing/Communications department at De Anza College. They put me at ease for the most part and most of the review went smoothly, except it felt pressed for time and the discussions about politics were a bit awkward. But then, political discussions usually are; thus the career shift into something I actually love doing! Marisa, the Director of Marketing, also graciously introduced me to a gentleman who needs graphic design work done for a CD cover, but I doubt he'll actually contact me about it. Note to self: get some business cards, pronto. Worked on my paintings for the rest of the afternoon and then in color class studio. Still wasn't done at 5:30 for class discussion; the legato piece was done but the staccato and crescendo were both still partially painted.

Wednesday I worked. More mediation prep. The printer wasn't working by the end of the day. Needed more ink, we didn't have any. Seems like it's always the photo cyan that goes first. I will say this. The HP Photosmart 3200 printer is worlds below the Canon Pixma iP6600D. There is no comparison, even as a backup printer. I just couldn't publish my work on the HP, period. Went home late from work because of the printing problems, having not even finished.

Yesterday I had no classes. By a freak coincidence, both classes happened to be out. I spent the morning remedying the printing problems at work, and then spent the afternoon in Mountain View. I was on my way to the Community School of Music and Arts, but stopped at BevMo to see if they have my illusive favorite scotch whiskey. Why? Because in January when I needed scotch I couldn't find any Sheep Dip. Turns out they have it at BevMo, regularly stocked. So I know where to find it next time. Google maps ran me into a dead end about two blocks from where I should have been, and I had a helluva time trying to find the right road to the CSMA. I finally got there, and I folded my hands behind my back as I perused their small museum, then asked for help from the front desk. One of their resident visual artists, Kyle, gave me a tour and explained the organization's functions and purpose. An amiable sort of chap, he led me around their small but impressive facility and showed me their art studios, classrooms and private lessons rooms, and concert hall. I learned a lot about their mission and should have more than enough for the "today's working artist" group project I need it for. It should also double nicely as an extra-credit museum paper for my color class.

Went home, studied a bit, cleaned a bit, looked at the wrong clock the whole time. I say the wrong clock because I only know in hindsight that it's the only clock in the house that hasn't yet been "sprung" forward an hour. As a result, I was 10 minutes late to the community theater's delightful, sold-out production of My Fair Lady, in which my old buddy Brett Carlson plays several minor characters. Since I was late, I had to watch the first half of the play standing, but it was still worth it. I assume the production was sold out because it is brilliantly performed, but also because it is the inaugural production to be shown in Foothill College's absolutely beautiful new Lohman Theater building. Brett and I hung out after, past midnight, chatting about girls and career past midnight over Denny's burgers.