This book is 100% hope.

A week full of wackiness. Only one school group came to the museum on Tuesday because of the preparations going on for the annual Exploratorium awards dinner. Since the kind of NSF grants that we apply for don't involve the science of killing people in other countries, we seem to have been getting fewer these days. So it's recently become even more important that we massage the egos of the rich in the hopes that they can help bridge the increasing gap in federal funding. They seem to like awards. As for the awards themselves, I never really got to see them but I hear that each one comes with a lemon wedge and a shot of Cabo.

Anyway, the museum was really empty, it was boring, and afterwards I biked to the ocean again only to forget that Shanghai Dumpling King is closed on Tuesdays. The next day, half of the field trip explainers went on a field trip of our own to the California Academy of Sciences, where John Muir established the Sierra Club in 1892. These days, you can watch the Academy feed penguins every 3:00, which we didn't actually get to see, but heck: we did start the day at Starbucks and kicked back at the Metreon for lunch. The genuine downtown SF experience. And not to brag or anything, but guess who won a Pig Buck--good for one free drink--for a second place finish at The Pig and Whistle trivia night?

I kind-of got offered to kind-of get hired to kind-of continue building exhibits as an on-call developer through the summer. You can imagine how thrilling such a firm commitment feels. But it's cool; it's the next step in my progression towards an underpaid underappreciated full-time position in a non-profit institution.

Welcome to a world full of discoveries

This week I awoke to the sounds of Irene Dillon chirping in my ear. Ross the landlord's bullshit was in full bloom. The Upper Haight briefly smelled more of tree pollen than of Humboldt weed and, just like that, spring is here in San Francisco.

Things were looking outstanding by Wednesday night, when after months of trying the museum crew and I finally earned the top prize at Pig and Whistle trivia night. That's right: first place and I am deeply proud, as if I saved a kid from choking. We have come close before but were always thwarted. A month ago it came down to the arbitrary tie-breaking question, "how many times did Fay Wray scream in the original King Kong?" to which we second guessed our winning response in the final seconds. We said 6. It was 78. Finally, though, fate was on our side and this week we drink pitchers of Newcastle Brown for free. The triumph was captured for the ages on cell phone :
















Saturday I taught a class at the Exploratorium. It was about weather and it was bad, though we did make fog in a jar.

As bad as my weather class may have been, the forecast for Sunday called for "abundant sunshine" and it was the first legit hot day of 2006. High of 86! The pull West is practically magnetic on days like this, so I got on my bike and found myself at the Pacific in no time. The scene there was enough to thaw even the cold soul of the great Russian tundra itself: the beautiful day had prompted a solid mile of insane kids frolicking in the surf, ecstatic puppies fetching all manner of spheroid, and flying disc competitors jockeying for prestige among the surf. Not bad for a beach that people usually write off as "depressing" (overlooking the fatality, of course). I took the opportunity to try and absorb as much of it as possible while I walked up and down the stretch, listening to one and a half Dylan albums.

Since I was in the area afterwards, spicy wontons at Shanghai Dumpling House could not be ignored. So I made that happen immediately....so fucking good. I rounded out the evening with a "The Sentinel" and "Inside Man" double feature at the Balboa theater, which is maybe my favorite picture house in the entire city. By midnight, the only thing awake in the outer Richmond was the ocean, softly churning in the distance as I biked home by the light of the ancient Golden Gate park street lamps. Maybe not the perfect day, but a pretty good one. At the very least, enough to get me sunburned:




















It's a shame that today was completely useless. And yes, that *is* a new shirt. Thanks for noticing.

Positive I.D. Required

yes, Yes, YES!

Experts are reluctant to discuss the problem for fear of giving terrorists any ideas.

A lady tipped me five bucks today after I did an orientation for her 5th graders at the museum. I really don't know how to feel. Flattered? Dirty? Coy? I mostly feel guilty because I think she took me seriously when I told the class that I accept tips. It's one of my best jokes. Here, in reverse order of funniness, are my others:

3. You can't go in the gift shop without a chaperone, but I gaurentee you that the rest of the museum is way better anyways. Batteries for $10!?! Honestly, We are just trying to rip you off in there.

2. There are two special water fountains inside the Exploratorium... and one of them is a toilet. [laughter] Now I don't reccomend that you drink out of the real toilets [laughter] but I sure can't stop you.

1. The flower dissection is all about sex--middle schoolers love it!

105,000 Mile Service

What's up? It's been two weeks since I got from Europe and wouldn't you know it: my mind is an uncaged baboon, galumphing around wildly, unable to process its new found freedom. Two weeks in fantasy land and I come back to what? Five silly jobs and a provincial art show! Fuck that, get me back to fantasy land. Either that, or an ounce of crack (the kind you can put under your tongue, though; the thought of actually smoking crack weirds me out).

I guess I'm slowly coming off the travelling high. In six weeks the Explainer year will be over, I will be commuting to Berkeley, and the San Francisco summer fog will be enveloping all of not living on the Eastern face of Telegrapgh Hill. Despite that, there was plenty of stuff to come home to:

-The art show was not my first choice of places to be when I arrived home from Italy. I went right from the airport and was still setting up well into the opening. It was a lot like last time: a lot of people walking in and out, a lot of talking, and a lot of sitting around. My head wasn't into it but I'll mark it down as a success; while I was only marginally happy with my four new pieces, someone else was enthusiastic enough to actually buy one. So I actually made a sale! I didn't meet the guy at the show. He left me a note in my guestbook and the transaction happened last Saturday. It went smoother than expected (I expected nothing until the time the check was in my hand). I got to peek in his apartment and was flattered to notice that the guy had great taste in art (stuff a little like my own, but slightly better and more traditionally indie) and that he was at least ten times cooler than myself (spins at local clubs, has a cool hat). So.... cool, I guess.

-The Sonoma semester ended, as is becoming expected, with a final act of dramatics. Anika briefly turned back to the dark side. My comically inept supervisor quit/resigned/took medical leave? Most of all: a lot of rightfully pissed off students. The program is at such an unbelievably low point that its hard to imagine that they are still open for business. The whole semester started on a bad note as George produced a new schedule that he distributed to everyone but the instructors. When there are people literally flying in from Pheonix for a class that you aren't there to teach, how do you recover? Luckily, I think I came out of the semester on the right side of things.

I refused to take any blame for the administration's bullshit and just tried to get my students through it. Of course, it meant coming in an hour early, making my own copies (Sonoma college is unable to replace its toner cartridges within the space of one month, which is simultaneously appaling and funny), and honoring a million little bullshit requests. But that was the only way to get through it so I am tenuously proud of myself.

-Jury duty, again!?! What the hell!? I successfully avoided doing that just a few months ago.

-Nevermind that she got a near-criminal allotment of extra time, one of my students scored a 750 on math! The only thing my poor battered soul can hope is that, once at Princeton, she pledge her life to bridging the gap between rich and poor.

-Back to stupid fucking toilet paper. It's been about ten years since I saved up for something big I really wanted, but I might just start to casually check out the prices on some mid-performance bidets.

-Still living hand to mouth, thanks to my $867 contribution to the Democratic cash guzzling political apparatus. I have since withdrawn my registration from that particular party and joined my friends Chuck Moulton and the employees at Top Dog in supporting Michael Badnarik for president.

-My car survived 3+ weeks non use on the rough patch of Washington St. between Larkin and Hyde. Exactly as it should be.

[wrapping up my first sale, maybe a little sad about it]