[A Karaoke Supernova]

On Blogging and Other Such Things

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 19:35:00 +0000

Blogging used to be rather easy. A year (or so) ago, I lived in Scotland, and every day brought with it some kind of adventure. Before that, I was in graduate school and college and went on all sorts of random adventures and road trips. I took courses and thought deep thoughts and was exposed to all kinds of new and interesting ideas that I, of course, wanted to come back to my computer and write about at the end of the day. In college, you are surrounded by people and are constantly (whether you like it or not) thrust into various social encounters that, for better or worse, provide good fodder for writing, blogging, and the like. Blogging, as I have said, used to be rather easy. It was even easy when I was unemployed, as blogging provided a forum for complaining about my lack of employment (a topic most worthy of complaint, to be sure).

Writing has become somewhat more difficult of late, I have noticed. Taking a look at my blog, I note that I have not updated with any regularity since returning from Scotland last August -

brief sidebar: It has now been over a year since Kellie and I returned from Scotland. Over a year. That is simply ridiculous. In a lot of ways, it feels like it was just the other day that we lived over there. The last year has been kind of a blur, between new employment and, well, unemployment. Crazy.

- and, moreover, I have not updated at all, not a word, since May. An entire summer has passed and I have not had anything interesting to say. Well, at least nothing blogworthy. And it's not just that it's so easy to throw a 140 word update up on Facebook or Twitter. No, the problem, it seems to me, is that when you spend 40 hours of your week at work, 50 hours or so of your week asleep, and the rest of your hours just trying to relax and unwind from all that working and sleeping, what is there really to talk about? There are not really that many exciting adventures to be had in my cubicle. And, even if there were, even if there were crazy things happening to me all the time at the office, work is the kind of thing that I'm just not comfortable blogging about. This is a strange thing for me; after all, I've kept a blog and made public(ish) all sorts of random details of my life since, oh, 2003. I have talked about classes, friends, enemies, politics, religion, and everything in between. But, somehow, work is different. Part of it, of course, is the fear, even with privacy settings, that a rant about work might find its way to one's current and/or future employers. That is certainly something that is always int he front of my mind as I write things on the Internets, especially as one who has been bitten on the ass in the past by his, shall we say, brutal honesty. With stakes as high as one's job, it's hard to get enthusiastic about blogging one's job.

Nevertheless, therein lies the quandary: I spend almost all of my time at work, and thus, it is my main source of interesting (well, occasionally) stories. And, to be sure, there are occasionally stories I would like to share, lest they be forgotten and left behind in the endless day-to-day slog that is the working world. So, what are the alternative? Write nothing, and keep these stories to myself, thereby ending the written narrative that I have kept on this blog for Lo, these many long(ish) years? Go offline into some form of physical journal? Go anonymous? I do not know.

An Entirely Decent Day

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Tue, 04 May 2010 18:29:00 +0000

I usually find that Tuesday is my least favorite day of the week. I know Monday is generally the most reviled of weekdays, but I do not agree with this notion. True, on Monday it's back to the grind, but at least you are well-rested and coming into work straight off of a weekend of relaxation. Tuesday, not so much. It's not yet halfway through the week, the end is not yet in sight, etc. Tuesdays are, generally speaking, the worst.

Nevertheless, I declare this to be an entirely decent Tuesday (EDT). My reasoning is as follows:

(1) The new Josh Ritter album, So Runs the World Away, was released. Yes, I've been streaming it over NPR for the last week, but this is exciting nonetheless. As a result,

(2) I took an entirely too-long-for-my-lunch-hour bike ride down to Waterloo Records to procure said album, and thereby enjoyed the loveliness of a spring afternoon in Austin, Texas.

(3) Upon finishing and posting this blog entry, I intend to walk across the street and redeem by free birthday coffee coupon at Kick Butt Coffee.

(4) After a week's hiatus, there is a new LOST tonight, and as I am easily excited, this is enough to make the day a good one.

So take heart, my friends, a persevere. For though your Tuesday might not be an entirely decent Tuesday, rest assured that time marches onward...

Well, that was pointless!

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 18:30:00 +0000

So, funny story. Or is it an angry story? You decide:

About eight years ago, while I was at Austin College, my driver's license was about to expire. Rather than search the town of Sherman for the driver's license office, I decided, why not just renew this online? True, this meant keeping my out of date photo (from when I was seventeen), but it was such a convenience that I could not pass it up.

Fast forward eight years. It is the future, the year 2010. My driver's license is again about to expire. I want to renew online, but by now, my photo is eleven years out of date. Since I look a bit different than when I was 17, the license is an increasingly poor photo ID. Gritting my teeth, I decide to venture to the driver's license office to get a new photo taken.

I use my lunch break to do this. I wait in line for nearly 45 minutes along with everyone else in Austin who came to DPS on their lunch break. I grimace in agony as person after person in the line goes up to the desk with a stupid, lengthy complaint or request (e.g., "I need an expedited CDL," or, "My driver's license was suspended."). Finally, it is my turn. I am quick and efficient. I fill out my forms, have my check made out, and am ready to go. At this point, I know I can still make it back to work in time. It is going to be a victory! Then the time comes for my new photo. I check my hair, practice my smile, and step up to the white line.

"Take off your glasses," the guy says.

"What?"

"Take your glasses off."

"But, I always wear my glasses. Not just to drive."

"We don't take pictures with glasses."

So I take them off. And we do the picture. And it comes out looking weird. Much worse, in fact, than my seventeen year-old version. In fact, it looks much less like me than the old one. Which is because I AM NEVER WITHOUT MY GLASSES. I FRAKKING WEAR GLASSES! True, if you came by my house at, say, 5 in the morning, and I was asleep, there is a good chance that, at that point, I would be without my glasses. At any other point, however, I have them on. Because, you know, I NEED THEM TO SEE.

So, let me ask you this, Texas DPS: what is the point of a photo identification that, by its very nature, FAILS TO IDENTIFY THE WAY I LOOK?!?!?

What I Haved Learned about Medicaid

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 19:07:00 +0000

Before coming to work at the Agency, I had very little knowledge of Medicaid. I knew it existed, I knew vaguely what it did, but I had very little conception of its innerworkings. In the last five months, however, I have learned more than I ever thought I would know about this particular government entitlement. Specifically, I have delved deeply into the incredibly complex process that goes into keeping this behemoth running, from the policy side.

Say, for instance, that a state or federal governmental body enacts some kind of statutory change (for instance, the recent Health Care Reform bill). Such an act would require the following responses on the part of our Agency. First, new statutory laws mean that the Agency has to revise its administrative laws. Hence, a lengthy rulemaking process follows even the most trivial of legislative acts. Second, Medicaid is jointly operating by state and federal governments; the contract that outlines this joint operation is known as the State Plan. Thus, any legislative act that requires rule changes will probably also require amendments to the State Plan, which requires going through the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS). Finally, some Medicaid programs are not part of Title XIX (of the Social Security Act), but are "waiver" programs that permit the State to provide services that fall outside what is outlined in the SSA. Thus, many legislative changes require changes to our waiver documents, which also require interaction with CMS.

Thus, it's kind of funny to me to see democratic senators and representatives celebrating the victory of HCR as if that is the end of the story. It's a big victory, to be sure, but there is a long road of rulemaking, state plan amending, and waiver amending ahead before any of those new laws are reflected in the day-to-day policy of states like Texas. It's a machine so complex that I sometimes can't even believe it.

The Upside of Being an Administrative Professional

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 18:50:00 +0000

Yesterday was Administrative Professionals' Day (or Secretary's Day, as it was once called). Unfortunately, in Texas, it was also San Jacinto Day, so observance of the former was somewhat nonexistent at the Agency. Today, however, was a different story. My colleagues and I were provided with a veritable smorgasbord of a breakfast spread that included breakfast tacos, kolaches, bagels, fruit, and other various breakfast related sundries. Not to mention a new coffee mug (with chickens on it, no less).

Now, my current position as an administrative assistant for the state is, perhaps, not as glamorous as I might like. Be that as it may, it's hard to be too bummed out about a free breakfast. That is all.

Earth Day

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 18:37:00 +0000

I was riding into work this morning, as I do every morning, when I noticed that the neighborhood was strangely busy. On a normal day, I encounter a handful of people during my morning ride down Shoal Creek - a jogger here, a dog-walker there, and perhaps another cyclist or two. Generally speaking, however, it is pretty quiet. This morning, however, I noticed a great number of children and their parents out walking - to school, I assume. How nice, I thought. I bet their teachers encouraged them to walk to school on account of Earth Day and such. A good idea, to be sure. But this got me thinking about a couple of related matters. First, why aren't there more kids out there walking to school everyday? I mean, this is a nice neighborhood with a neighborhood elementary school; when I was that age, I walked or rode my bike to school every single day. It's a little sad that it takes a special occasion to get kids out and about instead of hitching a ride in a car.

The other thing that occurred to me, in a slightly less cynical moment, is that if each of us could commit to only one day a week of walking, riding a bike, or using public transportation to get to work, instead of driving, how great would that be? Yes, I understand that some commutes are longer than others and that it can be quite an inconvenience, and yes, especially in Texas, the cities themselves are set up for driving cars rather than public transit or bike commuting, but still, it's at least possible, right? Assuming we all picked different days of the week, imagine how much less traffic there would be! And, imagine how great it would be for so many people to get a little bit more exercise!

Now, I realize this is one of those naive and silly Earth Day kind of ideas... but, still, it's nice to think of a city in which there is 1/5 less traffic, 1/5 less automobile-related pollution, and a lot of other folks out there commuting by foot, bike, or bus and enjoying the springtime!

The Ghosts of New Year's Eves Past

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 16:12:00 +0000

It seems appropriate to offer one's introspective ponderings upon the final day of the year. The year 2009, for me, began in Scotland, but is ending back home in Austin, TX. 2009 was an exciting year, to be sure, but was not by any means an easy year, at least for me. Kellie and I traveled the world, visiting Paris and Florence and taking in the culture of Edinburgh, but it was also a year of tremendous set backs and frustrations. This year required me, for the first time in a long time, to completely reevaluate my career path and to find a suitable Plan B when my PhD apps fell through. Moving back to the States in August was, of course, a joyful homecoming after a year spent abroad in Scotland, but moving back and attempting to find work during the deepest economic recession of my lifetime took some of the wind out of my sails. Still other annoyances, such as dealing with the British government and such, have slowly but surely chipped away at my optimism and positive attitude, to the point that here, at the end of 2009, I am quite ready for this year to be over. And that's precisely the good thing about New Year's: the previous year, the good and the bad, can be set aside. The previous chapter can be closed and a new one begun. That's truly a freeing feeling on this, the final day of such a long and interesting year.

On another note, I find it curious this morning to consider all the other strange and interesting places I have found myself on this day. 10 years ago, for instance, in 1999, I was in Hyde Park, in London, when three nines turned into three zeroes and the world didn't come crashing down around us. The next day, I marched through the streets of London, trombone in hand, playing "The Yellow Rose of Texas" as Londoners sang along. Quite surreal. In 2004, I hosted my first New Year's Eve get together at my college house in Sherman (since razed to the ground), dubbed "Isengard," and rang in the new year with friends. Two years ago, in 2007, New Year's Eve was the night before my long, strange trip to Indonesia, where I met monkeys and spent a night, all alone, at a stranger's house in the middle of the Balinese jungle. Then, of course, last year Kellie and I attended the 2008 Hogmany festivities on the streets of Edinburgh. Princes Street was packed to the gills with revelers, who joined together at midnight to sing "Auld Lang Syne," in something less than perfect unison.

Perhaps the moral of the story is that even if one finds oneself at the end of a less than banner year, there is comfort in the fact that one never knows where one will end up next. New adventures always lie on the horizon, so long as one remains open to those adventures. And as the year 2009 fades into a distant memory, I know all those sources of frustration will fade, as well, until I am left with only a fond reminiscence of things past as I trudge, ever forward, into 2010, and thankfully, can finally cease the annoying habit of prefacing the year number with "two-thousand-and." Seriously. That got old in about two-thousand-and-two. Welcome, twenty-ten, welcome.

Concession Speech

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 00:20:00 +0000

I give up, 2009. You win. I don't know what you were trying to prove, but for whatever it's worth I concede.

Out of Exile

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 19:52:00 +0000

Wow, I haven't written in over a month. Definitely my longest blog-gap in recent memory, but to be fair, I have had absolutely nothing to say. Aside from getting readjusted to life in Austin, my last three months have actually been rather dull. Most days have consisted of riding 10 or so miles on the bike, looking for jobs online, and watching hour after unbearable hour of daytime television. Such is unemployment, I suppose.

It's really quite a depressing state, this unemployment. There's a combination of factors that really serve to get you down. It's not just the constant rejection (or worse, non-response) from various potential employers. Rather, it's the void of having nothing on your calendar, nowhere to be during the day and nothing really to plan for or even plan around. It's maddening. The experience has given me infinitely more empathy for those who are in an even worse position than us in this economic morass.

In any case, the three-month exile that is unemployment is now at an end. Kellie will be starting work in two week and I will be starting just after we get back from Thanksgiving. This will be an interesting transition, I expect. On the one hand, I am incredibly excited that I will have something to do, a way to use my talents and contribute to the projects of an office. On the other, this will of course be my first full time job, which is no doubt a change from full time school. Moreover, because of the nature of my program in Edinburgh, I haven't actually had a daytime schedule since early March of this year - it has actually been eight months since I have had any kind of schedule at all. So, things will be very different. But, in a good way, I think. I suspect that it will be much easier to make full use of my free time when it becomes a more scarce commodity.

My Theme Song

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 16:50:00 +0000

My theme song of late has been "Waiting for My Real Life to Begin" by Colin Hay:

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
I'll stand on the bow, feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down down down, on me

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in
But don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

When I awoke today, suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams, I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path, up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my old footsteps, once again

And you say, just be here now
Forget about the past, your mask is wearing thin
Just let me throw one more dice
I know that I can win
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
And I'll check my machine, there's sure to be that call
It's gonna happen soon, soon, oh so very soon
It's just that times are lean

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart, let the light shine
Don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

On a clear day I can see, see for a long way
On a clear day I can see, see for a long way.

Job Applications and the End of Common Courtesy

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 17:07:00 +0000

I have spent much of my time over the last six weeks or so updating my resume, composing cover letters, and filling out job applications. As this is my first foray into the job application process following my seemingly endless years of higher education, I have been struck by the dehumanizing quality of the job application process (in fact, of almost any application process). The gap between what the job search really is and what companies have turned it into is shocking. You are told, in no uncertain terms, "Don't call, don't write, don't email, don't visit us in person, just fill out the application, don't inquire about it's status, just wait and we may or may not ever get back to you." You want to make a personal connection, to be something more than a set of keywords and numbers, but the job application process at nearly every job discourages this. We would rather simplify the process and make it more efficient than actually get to know people. What ever happened to common courtesy, for instance, when one spends a great deal of time applying for a job, never hears back, sends a follow-up note, and then doesn't hear back from that, either? Are we really okay with a world that works like this, in which we are so bound by bureaucracy that we can't even communicate on a human level? Is that professionalism?

A Few Words on the ACL Festival

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 17:13:00 +0000

Highlight of ACL: Watching the Decemberists perform their album, "The Hazards of Love," in its entirety. I don't know how many times I have listened to this album by now, but it never gets old. The live performance was outstanding and added a new level of depth to the experience. Becky Stark was very charming playing the part of Margaret, with her Renaissance-style dress and quirky dancing, but I thought the real show-stealer was Shara Worden as the Forest Queen. Her vocals, especially in "The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing" blew me away. The "Rake's Song," of course, was a highlight and got the crowd excited, but it was interesting to see the number of people who didn't figure out that the Decemberists were performing an entire concept album and got bored after "Won't Want for Love." Quitters. The only bad part was that the Decemberists had only one hour for their set, so they had time to perform Hazards, but nothing else. Nevertheless, its was nothing short of a magical performance, even in the pouring rain, and definitely ranks among my top concert experiences.

Lowlight of ACL: The mud pit. The City of Austin spent a couple million dollars planting beautiful new grass in Zilker Park. While it lasted, it really was a lovely addition to the park and made the festival that much more pleasant. That grass, however, is gone. The rain and 60,000+ crowd turned all that young grass into a mud pit. By the time DMB went on, the area around the main stage had gone from soggy to muddy and slick. Yuck.

Incompetence

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 21:51:00 +0000

Call me cynical, but I am continually astounded by the complete and utter incompetence of some people. Three recent examples:

(1) I logged into my University of Edinburgh account to see if my final grade was up. It was not, but I did discover an anomalous and befuddling charge on my account, which should be closed (since I am finished with school) for about 36 pounds for accommodations charges for the 2009-2010 school year. (A) I am not enrolled for that school year. (B) I do not have university accommodations for that school year.

(2) We got a call today from AT&T, threatening to charge us a late fee if we didn't pay our cell phone bill. But, we protested, we never received said bill. Turns out when we signed up for our new account a month ago, they took down the wrong address. Like, not wrong as in a transposed set of numbers, but wrong as in the wrong numbers, the wrong street, the wrong city. Where they got this address from, I have no idea. We narrowly avoided a late fee.

(3) This one is my favorite. We had to sign up for renter's insurance for our new apartment. This was accomplished over the phone in an excruciatingly long phone call. The crucial part of renter's insurance, it seems to me, is the actual address of the rental property being insured. I gave this to the guy. But, somehow, instead of our real address, I discover on our first statement that he has taken down the following: "3524 Greystpme Dr., Austim, TX." Now, two things. "Greystpme" is simply not a word. I couldn't have even pronounced this to him over the phone. And, second, this insurance agent is based in Austin, and surely knows that there is no such place as "Austim." Seriously. I called shortly after receiving this communique to correct the information, thinking that it might be important for the address I had paid to insure to be the one where I actually lived. The guy acted put out by this, but said it would be corrected. I just got a form showing the corrected address. My new address? "3524 Greyst0ne Dr." Wow.

Notes from Austin

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 20:30:00 +0000

Almost exactly one year after we packed up our stuff, headed to Dallas, and took a plane to Scotland, Kellie and I rolled back into Austin. As much as has happened over the last year, it was funny how much things seemed about the same as when we left. We went to the storage unit, for instance, and found everything (more or less) exactly has we had left it, as if it had just been packed away a few days before. We met up with friends, and likewise, we found ourselves picking up right where we had left off.

I guess it's strange coming back home after an experience that is so totally removed from the rest of your life. You live in Texas your whole life, then pick up and move to Scotland, and then return to Texas. You find yourself asking, "Did I really just spend a year in Edinburgh? Was that just a dream?" And so, while I feel different, to be sure, than I did when I left, in other ways it seems like I never left at all, that the whole Scotland experience was some crazy foreign time warp. I guess what I am trying to say is that it is difficult to integrate parts of one's life that are so totally different.

Then again, it is comforting to be back in a place that I know well. It's good to know where things are and have some ideas for places to go out to eat. Things like that. It's very good to be back in Austin. But, in many ways, I still feel trapped in some kind of odd limbo time warp phenomenon, because as I have mentioned, I am still unemployed and between careers. Not only am I transitioning back to life in the States, but moving from academia to the working world, and moreover, trying to rethink my career aspirations/expectations simultaneously. It's a somewhat mind-boggling experience, to be quite honest. And it's in the midst of all that confusion and soul-searching that I am glad to be back in this place.

The Return

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 16:11:00 +0000

Our year in Edinburgh ended on Thursday morning with the daunting task of carrying our eight bags the mile or so from our flat to the airport shuttle at 4:20 in the morning (local time, of course). Several in flight movies and nearly 24 hours later, we were going to sleep at my dad's house in Dallas. Funny how such dramatic changes in scenery tend to happen so very quickly. It's actually rather depressing to fly into DFW, with its lack of trees and ugly concrete and warehouses. But, it is good to be back in Texas, even if the morning low is 10 degrees higher than the afternoon high in Scotland. That's okay.

Now that all the excitement of first arriving has worn off, though, I find myself in this odd sort of limbo. For the first time that I can remember, I don't actually have an address. We're between apartments, between jobs - between lives, really. It is of course a welcome break, and it is nice to relax for a bit after spending weeks trying to wrap things up in Edinburgh and worrying about various travel arrangements. It is nice to have some peace. Nevertheless, it's always odd to end up in one of these in-between stages of life.

In any case, though, it's good to see folks. And it's good to eat barbecue and Mexican food. And Texas is really, really hot. That is all.

A Dream

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 10:20:00 +0000

I had this dream the other night that involved going on a Chi Tau Chi retreat. It was cool, except everyone had made their own separate plans during the day. So, Robert and I decided to drive around the Texas hill country, looking for a barbecue restaurant. This went well until we ran into hordes of pedestrians in the road. Then I woke up. This dream told me three important things:

(1) I really want to eat barbecue. Seriously.

(2) I am fed up with the hordes of pedestrians who are here for the festival that clog the sidewalks and make it impossible to get anywhere.

(3) I still know how to drive on the right side of the road. This is crucial. I have been riding my bike on the left side of the road for the last several months and it has become like second nature to me. I have worried that I would be confused when I first got into a car in the States, since I haven't driven in a year. But, in my dream, I was driving on the correct side of the road and the driver's seat was on the correct side of the car. This is good news for me and for other Texas drivers, methinks.

Irony

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 08:06:00 +0000

Submitted for your laugher and/or sympathy. So, I finished my dissertation a couple of days ago. School, in essence, was out for the summer. Naturally, our internet decided to go out the next day. Also, of course, both our mobiles decided to run out of minutes on that same day, preventing me from completing my call with tech support. So, three days after finishing my research, where do I find myself in order to check my email? The library. Again. Lovely.

My Last Day of School

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 08:58:00 +0000

When you are in school, life seems to be a constant set of transitions, little milestones, and markers along the journey. There are a lot of first days and a lot of last days, a lot of beginnings and a lot of endings. And while these beginnings and endings mark out definite little bits of our lives and help us move on to the next year of school, they don't really change anything. On the next first day, after all, I am still the same student that I am on the last day. And so, all these first days and last days are kind of like running around a track. There is transition, yes, but you stay in the same game, and so there never really is anything like a definitive beginning or a definitive ending.

Anyway, I've been thinking lately about these beginnings and endings, about one's entry to and exit from the whole school endeavor. I don't really remember my first day of school, way back in 1988. But now that journey that started 21 years ago, all the way at Eanes Elementary in Austin, Texas, has now come to an end here in Edinburgh, Scotland. In a way, my last day of school was just as unremarkable as my first. I've been doing a research program, so I haven't actually had a class in months. In fact, I realized yesterday that it had been nearly a month since I had even walked inside the main building of my school. Much of my summer has been spent toiling alone, in he obscurity of either the library or my own flat, worrying over words and phrases and trying to make my dissertation make some sort of sense. And so, after all that solo work and lack of contact with the actual school, it was rather anticlimactic when I walked up the stairs of New College yesterday for my final meeting with my dissertation supervisor, only to be told that my work was more or less fine and that I could submit it when I wished. The meeting, the final meeting of my academic career (unless I decide to go back for more punishment), took all of 35 minutes.

35 minutes, and then that was it. For all intents and purposes, my last day of school. But this time, there isn't a first day of school waiting for me on the other side of the summer. The endless cycle of academic beginnings and endings has itself come to an end, and for the time being, that anticlimactic 35 minute last day of school seems to be the definitive last day of school. And thus, I have come to an ending that is truly an ending, that will truly lead to something different. I don't really know how to feel about that. There is great comfort in the continuous cycle of school years, of last days that lead inevitably to first days. Now that I have reached this particular end, I have no idea what the next "first day" will be.

Scolded

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 11:30:00 +0000

I totally just got scolded by an old man. I was pulling up to a stop light on my bike and the little old man, a cane in each hand, was slowly crossing the street. I guess he thought I wasn't going to stop for him, so he turns, makes eye contact with me, and with a sort of scowl on his face, mutters something that I can't hear and shakes one of his canes at me. I was so befuddled and amused I almost forgot to go when the light turned green. That is all.

Two thoughts. (1) Wow, I can't believe I've made it this long in life without being having a fist shaken at me by an old person. (2) I kind of can't wait until I can get away with doing this, too.

Directions

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 15:38:00 +0000

I have noticed that, over the past year, I have been stopped on the street and asked for directions an inordinate amount of times. It has gotten to the point that it is something of a joke between Kellie and I. On a given weekend, the chances are pretty high that some random person on the streets of Edinburgh will ask me how to get somewhere. This isn't even limited to Edinburgh. While on vacations in Italy and France, I was also asked for directions. The funny thing is, I am almost always able to direct them where they need to go. So, while I am always glad to do a good deed and help someone out, I must nevertheless ask why. Am I the sort of guy who always looks like he knows where he's going? Is there a map printed on the back of my jacket that I don't know about? I don't understand why I am the go-to guy for directions in this universe.

Movie Etiquette

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 09:07:00 +0000

In the UK, there's this great deal called Orange Wednesdays. Basically, if you have a mobile account with Orange, you can get two for one movie tickets every Wednesday. Pretty cool. Because of this deal, and because the new Harry Potter movie comes out on a Wednesday here in the UK, I decided to wait until Wednesday to buy our tickets. Ergo, most of the good showing sold out ahead of time. Ergo, I went to the movie theatre first thing Wednesday morning to get our tickets.

So, here's the question. In addition to the people buying tickets for later shows, there were also some people headed in to the 9am show. Many of them were getting popcorn to take into the movie. At 9am. Is this acceptable? If not, what is the proper morning movie snack?

National Healthcare is not like the DPS

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 18:57:00 +0000

A rant:

I am getting so tired of hearing the following line: "Do you like waiting in line at the DPS? 'Cause Obama's healthcare plan is going to be just like that."

Granted, the DPS sucks. We all know this. However, two things remain clear to me.

(1) Most people who make this statement have probably not lived in a country with nationalized healthcare. If you have, and see the DPS as a valid analog, then by all means, you're entitled to your opinion. If, like most people, you have not, then you simply have no basis for comparison. I can say that in my experience in the UK system, nationalized healthcare bears little resemblance to the DPS.

(2) People are quick to make the leap from "DPS is inefficient" to "government programs are inefficient." This just doesn't follow. I don't hear people who complain about nationalized healthcare complaining about other national programs from which they benefit, such as interstate highways and an army. Or how about national parks. Or free public schooling for children. Yeah. We've got it pretty bad, huh?

Granted, any program that can be done can be done poorly. But, that doesn't mean that it is necessarily the case, and unless you know what you are talking about and really don't care for all of the other fine government programs from which you draw benefits, then I suggest engaging in more thoughtful discourse on the subject. End rant.

Going off the Calendar

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 13:52:00 +0000

I mentioned earlier that I just bought tickets for our trip back to the States. It occurred to me shortly thereafter that, at least for me, this move will be somewhat unique. Every other transition in my life has revolved around a calendar - the school calendar. The years have been neatly divided into semesters since I was five years old, and as such, my various moves have usually been designed to have me where I need to be by the first day of school. But now, there is no first day of school awaiting me on the other side of this move. No orientation, no first semester. When I board the plane bound for America, I will essentially be going off the school calendar for the first time in my adult life. I thus finding it interesting that I will not only be moving into another country, but into a new kind of time. I am curious to find out what this will be like.

Setting a Date

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 09:54:00 +0000

Almost a year ago, I wrote about how buying the plane tickets to fly to Edinburgh made the whole experience finally real. We were really doing this, really moving overseas and starting a whole new adventure. Now, here it is, July of 2009. Seems like we've been over here for years rather than months. Edinburgh has changed from a foreign city into a place that we can call home. But today, after much dawdling, I finally bought the plane tickets for our flight back to the States. We have a date: August 27. A date for the beginning of another adventure. Once again, it's real.

The Fourth of July

noreply@blogger.com (BCDees) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 13:37:00 +0000

In my (admittedly limited) experience as an American living abroad, there are two days that really make you feel homesick for the States. Those are, of course, Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July. I've got to admit, Thanksgiving required a fair amount of improvisation. We don't really have anything as good as an oven and have to get by with a combination microwave/convection oven, which only sometimes works. The device is a bit on the smallish side, so turkey was definitely out. We ended up cooking a roast chicken, which was fine, but it was still sad to miss out on the Macy's parade and all the other goodness associated with Thanksgiving.

Then there's the Fourth. They do actually have the Fourth of July in Britain (it would be awkward to skip straight from the Third to the Fifth). Sadly, it is not marked with either barbecues or fireworks. Which makes sense, I guess. I can see how the British might not want to celebrate the rebellion of their former colony. In any case, it's odd to celebrate American independence when you are in the country from which America declared independence. And, as Kellie remarked to me earlier today, the Fourth is really quite a good holiday: after all, there are no cards or presents to buy, no elaborate dinners to cook, just burgers and blowing stuff up.

So, it feels odd to be in the wrong country today. But, I guess it helps one to appreciate the meaning of the holidays we sometimes so mindlessly observe.

(The good news is that Rachel Baumann is actually randomly in town today, so we will be celebrating with a fellow American. Huzzah!)