El Jardín Botanico de San Francisco

I finally had my volunteer training at the Botanical Garden Nursery last weekend, and I am in love with the place. It feels so good just to be there. To be surrounded by plants. And people who love plants.

I will be propagating plants for sale at the monthly plant sales. Propagating from seed, by splitting plants and by taking cuttings. I will mix soils for potting according to what the plants want. I will fertilize, I will repot, I will move things from one spot to another. I will make myself generally useful.

I signed up to help every other weekend, but it already feels like it won't be enough. I'm planning to show up again this Saturday and I'll ask if they can use me for the March sale the weekend after that, even though I won't know enough to answer questions. Yet.

But I will. I will. I will know the Latin names of everything. I will know what everyone needs to be happy. I will know who needs more light or a frost or to be kept warm at night or whose seeds need to be soaked in smoke water to germinate. Even all of that I will know.

And it feels good. It feels like happiness.

La historia de amor

I had to give an oral presentation last week about una historia de amor, and mine went something like this:

Hace dos años para el Día de los Enamorados, yo me caí de me bicicleta y casi conseguí una conmersión cerebral. El año pasado, fui al médico para conseguir unos inyecciones. Y eso es la historia de mi fin de semana del Día de los Enamorados este año:

Llovía cuando arribé en San Diego para visitar mi amigo, un poeta se llama John. Yo lo conocí hace seis años y medio cuando vivíamos en una casa grande en la universidad. [...]

It turns out most people were telling boring stories about people they knew sort of peripherally or the story of their parents getting together, etc., but after my third sentence, the class got pretty quiet.

I feel like normally I'd be horrified to have to tell a love story in front of a bunch of people I don't really know but will have to see again and again. Maybe I tapped into some latent dramatic vein, but speaking Spanish was never easier than it was just then.

It's kind of funny to me that I had that conversation in Spanish first because I've had it so many times since then. I'm trying not to memorize the words so that i can tell for the first time every time, but there just aren't words for the important parts. The feeling of how you can know just looking at someone across a room that they make sense to you even if you never speak a word. Or the feeling of - I don't even know. Maybe some examples would be:

- The feeling of loving someone 200% or 1000% or infinity%.
- The feeling of being absolutely unconcerned about what someone else thinks of you because you believe he's thinking what you're thinking
- The feeling of not having to say something because you (pl.) already know
- The feeling of saying it anyway
- The feeling of believing in magic and every impossible thing
- The feeling of getting something better than you even wanted without ever having even asked for it

That's what I want to try to explain, but don't know how to translate. Even if it turns out that I'm silly for my head and heart to be where they are now, I don't mind. It feels all goodness and rightness to me and I trust it absolutely.

So, here's to that.

Busy busy busy

There is lots to chat about if only I had a minute to myself, but I dragged myself in to work today since I can't seem to keep up working from home. Then tonight is banjo lessons to be followed by bluegrass band practice to be followed by

A. working more
B. studying for tomorrow's Spanish test
or
C. all of the above.

Then tomorrow is work, Spanish test, more work. Thursday is work followed by work. Friday is (with luck) just work.

So, my apologies for being generally brain dead these days.

ps. Don't tell anyone that I popped in to Berkeley Bowl on my way home early yesterday. Or that I baked two loaves of bread. Having a few consecutive hours at home is such a luxury, who could resist??

Invalid karaoke

I have caught my favorite kind of cold. Where my voice turns deep and squeaky and my main symptom is sleepiness. Which always makes me feel like SINGING!!!

This is one of my favorite things about me.

I can very nearly sing off all the words to Devil or Angel by heart.

I like to think I sound not unlike Elvis..

Escondido

What I really want to talk about though is Escondido.

I had the world's loveliest time this weekend. And you're probably getting a picture in your head of what I might mean by that, but I'm almost sure that whatever you're thinking, it was even better than that.

I don't know what to say other than that I feel charmed. My dear friend John is (as we had suspected) the sweetest, most wonderful, charming, lovely and best person ever. I am jealous of myself for getting to spend three whole days with him.

I could tell you that we drank wine and watched films in french. Or that he took me to the Russian ballet and we sat so close you could see the sweat dripping down the dancers' faces. Or that we went to the circus and to see Mike Farrell talk about human rights. Or that I got to meet his dad and played pool with his brother - And Didn't Even Always Lose! Or that his brother played us Hank Williams singing Hey Good Lookin' on the jukebox. Or that the bartender shouted HEY LOVEBIRDS to get our attention when a gentleman at the bar ordered us a round of shots. But you wouldn't know that the best part was that John was there.

Am I allowed to admit that the first thing I did when I got up this morning was look at more flights to San Diego? I don't know, but it's true.

I suppose I'm just kind of dumbstruck that all these images floating through my head could really have happened to me.

I want to say I feel lucky, but that doesn't even come close.

lisa vs. banjo

I could not for the life of me play a single song at my lesson today. There are some days when I sound like a pro. And then there are days like today when my teacher mentions that I look like I'm having a row with the bit of stuff in my lap.

There's just this one part of Blackberry Blossom that is basically impossible to play. The end of the B part where you have to go from the crazy 7th stretch to the little bit around the fifth fret with your fingers crossed over the wrong way and then hop back up to do a pull off.

But I had a few minutes before my little chat with India tonight so I pulled out the banjo so as not to be tempted to more actual work than was necessary, determined to beat my head against that song a few more times just because I'm stubborn like that. Except that I nailed it. I got it once and I've only ever played it right maybe twice in my entire life (granted I've only known how to play this song for maybe three weeks, but still). So I tried it again and I got it again. And again and again.

Needless to say I am HIGHLY pleased with myself at the moment. There is hope for me yet.

Wobbly

I suspect that I may never have been busier than I am these days. I may have reached just about the maximum number of things I am able to keep up with simultaneously.

The bluegrass band is starting up again and I am to perfect this new song Blackberry Blossom to where I can play it flawlessly in two weeks. Only now I'm the thorn in the side of our practices because I need to be constantly attempting to train my Indian compatriots for the launches I'm trying to keep up with, which is slightly less crazy now that my coworker is back, but also slightly more crazy now that she is back because I get to resume learning all the new things she was to teach me. My tactic of not-scheduling chat time with my manager has been a relief, but can only be kept up so long before it starts to reflect negatively on one's performance.

And I haven't failed out of Spanish yet, but I do have another oral exam next Wednesday, one week from today. I am to tell a love story demonstrating my command of the preterite and imperfect tenses. Willy, the professor, recommends telling a true story because they're easier to remember, so I will need to sift through my uneventful past to translate some bit of it into Spanish. Ideally I'd tell a funny story, but all that comes to mind is death and darkness. There MUST be something funny. I will think harder.

My brain is kind of throbbing just thinking about thinking. And if it's like this now, what will it be like when I have more band practices and weekends at the Botanical Garden and attempt to bike out to farms on Saturdays? Mmmmaybe I signed up for too much, but isn't it a tiny bit cute of me to be so optimistic about what I can do and simultaneously too stubborn to ease off? Just a little?

In any case, I will be off to San Diego and the peace and relaxation and loveliness and magic that is John's new house on Friday, which feels like an eternity from now.

And I'm booked at least 26 hours a day until then.

Huzzah

Willy announced our next Spanish test before we'd even seen the ones we took last week. He handed them out at the end of class and mine had a nondescript red squiggle at the top. Then I saw the girl next to me got a paper with the same squiggle and a minus next to it. A, mine said. A.

I say huzzah to you, Mr. Chair of Modern Languages man.

Other good things

I almost forgot.

I noticed as I was about to run out the door this morning that my cardboard palm that I've had for years is putting out its first new frond. There is a fuzzy little baby arm growing out of the little bulb and my hyacinth bulbs seem to be doing ok too. But you don't understand - I love that little cardboard palm and have been worrying about its wellbeing since I brought it home, and for the first time it might be happy!

And not only that. I discovered (as I was listening to All You Do Is Talk for the tenth or eleventh time) that Black Rebel Motorcycle Club released a new album last November that even Jared had never heard about. They call it The Effects of 333. If I hadn't forgotten my wallet at home today (I am traveling on five borrowed dollars), I would be listening to it right now. Having one's credit card stolen and subsequently forgetting the wallet that contains one's not yet memorized new credit card number is inconvenient at times like these. But, new music! Very exciting.

All you do is talk

I have been listening to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club sing that song over and over since yesterday. There's just something about it that gives me the tinglies. I want to make a mixtape made of songs like that. Songs that prevent you from doing what you were doing before and make you listen. And I secretly want to sing them, to sing harmonies with a deep sexy voiced man.

Molly pointed out (after I'd been going on about Nick Cave and I picked BRMC from her ipod to listen to as we painted her new place) that I must like vocalists with deep voices. Yes. If I was ever unclear on this point, yes. Yes, I do.

Taking a breather

I may have overdosed on Spanish and busy-ness in general. I am tired and I miss Iceland. I took a look at the Iceland WWOOF places again, and maybe I'll still try to get in a little farming after all. Harvesting rhubarb and tending sheep sounds really nice right now.

This has been the longest week. Doing it all again Monday sounds much too soon, but at least I get to work from home Friday and then treat myself to a three day weekend in San Diego/Escondido to visit John and his new home. At least there's that.

Until then, I've got some tomato fennel bread dough rising, Spanish homework to finish up, errands to run, and banjo songs to learn. Getting home between 930 and 11 each night only to get up again at 6 makes me want to do nothing but watch television in bed on my laptop. Although spending 5 hours of a Saturday learning about plants sounds nice too. And that will start soon enough.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Things are just not going right today. Boo to that. I shake my fist at you, day. I kick you in the proverbial shin.

Things that are doing their best to cheer me up, though:
1. Emilio the goldfish
2. the plants
3. Sigur Rós
4. longer sunlight

Onwards and upwards

Look what I found today.

It looks like maybe Canada wants to find me a way to volunteer in Iceland over the summer. Doing farming/environmental stuff around the time of my birthday (when I wanted to be in Iceland). Is this possible?

It could be sketchy, but I still like the idea.

I took my Spanish test and did my oral presentation today. If I pass, I get to stay. I didn't know everything, but I'm pretty sure that if I failed, there aren't going to be many people left in the class, is all I'm saying.

Were you aware of it? vol. 14: Engineers made aware of life skills

BERLIN (Reuters) - Even the most quirky of computer nerds can learn to flirt with finesse thanks to a new "flirting course" being offered to budding IT engineers at Potsdam University south of Berlin.

The 440 students enrolled in the master's degree course will learn how to write flirtatious text messages and emails, impress people at parties and cope with rejection.

Philip von Senftleben, an author and radio presenter who will teach the course, summed up his job as teaching how to "get someone else's heart beating fast while yours stays calm."

The course, which starts next Monday, is part of the social skills section of the IT course and is designed to ease entry into the world of work. Students also learn body language, public-speaking, stress management and presentation skills.

"We want to prepare our students with the social skills needed to succeed both in their private life and their work life," said Hans-Joachim Allgaier, a spokesman for the institute at Potsdam University where the course is being offered.