Crabonanza!

People in San Francisco like to do things. Whether it's Critical Mass a monthly community bike ride downtown during rush hour, Santa Con, a massive bar hopping event, or the Big Wheel Races, we like to get our fun on.

For me, one of my highlights is something we call Crabonanza. Crabonanza was started by San Francisco Journalist and Editor Jon Rochmis. It involves going to Fisherman's Warf on a designated Sunday morning to enjoy fresh Dungeoness crab caught in local waters, local beer and locally baked bread. Typically we stand around drinking beer and eating bread as the crabs cook, then feast on freshly cracked steamed crab. When everyone is done eating we wander up to the Buena Vista for Irish Coffee. It's one of the best ways to spend a Sunday that I know of, thus being away from the Bay Area during crab season can be quite disappointing.

The good news is, I'm in Japan, land of seafood galore. I knew there had to be crab, and boy was I right. Last week an early trip to the grocery store revealed giant Japanese Spider crabs for around $25 each.  I hatched a plan to get go back and get one, but when I did, the crab were gone. I figured out, the trick to getting one or more of these beasts was to hit the store early, and not leave without crab.

Today, I employed my strategy and was duly rewarded with two unsuspecting crabs expertly wrapped in an ice filled styrofoam box. I had never cooked my own crab before, but have seen it done dozens of times, so I found my largest pot, threw in some Zateran's and a sliced lemon and let it boil. While the water heated up, I threw a couple of loaves of sourdough into the oven, and cracked open a beer.

It wasn't long before I was giddily placing a live crab into the rolling water, apologizing to it as I did. In a karmic twist, when I took the bread out of the oven, I got a bit of a nasty burn on my finger. Maybe I shouldn't have been so giddy about putting them in.

Each crab had to cook around twenty five minutes. Unlike the Dungeoness variety that I am familiar with in San Francisco, these crabs had spines all over their shells which made cleaning them a little challenging, but it was well worth it. The meat was sweet and luxurious. It was so rich it didn't even need butter. I believe I may have had my first real Crab-gasm.

Determination is a funny thing. It can yield extraordinary experiences and rich rewards. Today's homemade crab feast was just a reminder for me that some of the best things in life are the things you make happen for yourself.

Visualization

I like to visualize. It's a practice that has served me well in the past. When I visualize, I can see more clearly, and know where I am going and what I will do when I get there.

I learned about visualization from a friend in my early twenties. I was spinning my wheels a lot at the time. I learned to stop for a mere moment, and see myself where and how I wanted to be, and with that image imbedded in my mind I then moved forward.  Often when I did this, I didn't even have a specific goal, but I knew the general direction I needed to go somehow meeting my goals along the way.

I become troubled when I cannot visualize because of uncertainty or distraction.   If I can't picture where I'm going in life, I feel lost and even get depressed.

There are burdens from being so driven. As I have become older, I find that I have to pace myself. I'm learning though, what to focus my energy on, and how to best employ the faculties I have with efficiency. But none of that is helpful if I can't visualize.

I found a new tool to help me through those times. It's Pinterest, arguably the most exciting thing in Social Media since Facebook. I wrote about it some on the main blog.

What I like about Pinterest the most, is that it's all about visualization. I use it to become inspired, to define who and what I want to be and to re-imagine myself in that incarnation. It's a great tool, and I use it a little every day to reenforce the process.

There are a lot of implications of being older. Health declines. Energy begins to fade. Large print anything becomes a blessing. We adapt. I don't see engaging with an online tool to do what I've always been able to do on my own as a failure. I see it as an adaptation.

From here on out I think it's going to be about adapting more than ever before, and doing things smarter and better. It will be about being truer to who I really am. I'm glad I can see it now. It's a direction I can clearly envision myself taking.

Preparedness is the New Normal

My sister often jokes that as Burners, we have great apocalypse skills. We both know how to sew, use power tools, and can fix anything with zip ties and duck tape. I think it's something we both take for granted at times. We know how to be prepared. 

We were taught to always have five pounds of rice and beans in the house by our mother and that bailing wire can fix anything by our father. Both our parents were masters of improvisation, sometimes out of necessity, and sometimes for the joy of ingenuity.

After 9 years in the Army and 8 years of Burning Man, being prepared is second nature to me. Out of habit, I carry a flashlight and multi-tool in my bag along with a mini hygiene kit and enough snacks to last me a day. I also usually carry some sort of electrolyte powder, an extra couple of doses of my daily medication, multi-symptom cold medicine and pain killers.

What's funny is that despite the preparation I maintain in case of zombies, I still sometimes leave the house without situational necessities like my mobile phone, Tokyo Road Atlas and Japanese-English dictionary.

Crisis can heighten awareness. For those unaffected by a major disaster, this is the chance to learn what more we can do to be ready.  Hopefully for myself and others this means that being prepared for the unexpected will be woven into our new normal.

On the Train Platform

I arrived to the station eighteen minutes before my train. After inserting a combination of coins to pay for my 320 yen ticket, I made my way to the mostly empty platform.

Being early has it's advantages. I was able to sit in an empty seat next to an older Japanese woman. Her eyes were closed beneath large rimmed glasses and her head bowed towards the shopping bag at her feet.

The Japanese, I've learned, spend a lot of time on trains. Napping in the process is quite common.  Looking at the clock, I still had about fourteen minutes until my train would arrive, so I took out my iPad to catch up on some reading.  As I read, the platform filled, mostly with school children heading home for the day.

A familiar chime told me the train was approaching, and I stood just as it arrived. Looking over, I saw that the older woman was still dozing. The doors to the train opened and a uniformed swarm of kids began filling the cars. The woman didn't move.

I hesitated for a moment, and then gently touched her shoulder saying, "Sumi ma sen." Excuse me.

Her eyes opened, and I gestured to the train. "Ah!" She looked at me with complete gratitude. "Arigato a gazze mash te." Thank you so very much, she said, and then quickly picked up her shopping bag and ambled onto the train, disappearing among the students.

I boarded the train as well, sat down and finished the article I started reading on the platform.

Decompression Burning Man 2012

Every year I go to Burning Man, Decompression is a little different. Decompression is the period after the Burn when we come back to the Default World possibly overwhelmed by stimulation overload and definitely dusty.  I think one of the draws for those who regularly attend the event is escapism.  When you're out there on the Playa, your preoccupations are geared more towards survival than voice mail. It's always a bit of a transition coming back.

This year for me was different. I was fortunate enough to be asked to come early for set up and stay late for post event operations. I was on the Playa for a total of 34 days. Working behind the scenes is definitely more my speed. Event week was merely an increase in the number of people I saw every day.

Working is what I do best, and when I'm busy I'm at my best. I always say I learn something every year at the Burn and this year I think I realized not just how much I love to work, but how purposeful work contributes to my overall well being. I'm a different person when I have good work. I'm stronger, more motivated, and make better decisions.

I admit, that I was worried going in this year. I was worried about my stamina and whether or not I'd be able to pull my weight. But, as soon as I got there, something in me just clicked into gear. Before I knew it I was my truest self again, enjoying an experience not many get to have.

It was an interesting Burn highlighted by the epic and unexpected. I had an evening of Playa tales with Naked Bob and Cowboy Carl and made conversation with Bruno in Italian. I rode on a fluffer van, got a donut from a cop, sang with the Jerks on BMIR radio and had the best view of the burn yet. I made some new friends and cemented friendships that were merely acquaintances a couple of years ago.

I'm happy to have made it there and back and of course can't wait to do it again next year.

Father's Day

It's Fathers Day, the first one since my Dad died, and I can't help but miss him today. My dad loved to fly, so we always tried to buy him things with an airplane theme for special occasions. He also loved to tinker. For him a day out in the garage was pure bliss. He'd reorganize tools, build things out of sheet metal, and revive that which was broken or discarded by others. I remember when we were house hunting he wanted a house out in an unincorporated area so he could have his own junk yard. Luckily, my mother's sensibilities won out on that one. In some ways I understand my dad more now. As the only woman in a male household, I recognize why he sought out sanctuary in his garage. He was a male in an all woman household, although I sometimes think that my tomboyish ways helped a little. I at least knew the difference between a Phillips and a flathead. This next phase of life is nothing like I expected. As my own children grow and start to plan on lives of their own, I recognize how we change and evolve, but also how so many things remain the same, like my memory of him in coveralls, fixing things.

Working in Japan

Getting work in any foreign country can be difficult if you don't speak the language. Japan is no exception. But as the universe would have it, an opportunity was laid in my path, and I jumped at it.  So, now I have a job in Japan.

My Japanese Business Card

Although the language barrier exists, 99% of my work is based in English. Knowing Japanese would help a lot, but I'm getting by with the few phrases I know so far, and am starting to pick up a few more.

Working in Japan is different from any other experience I've had thus far.

First, is the dress code. Business attire consists of dark muted colors (black, navy blue or gray), with very plain button down shirts, although ruffles on shirts seem to be OK for women.  There are no bare legs in Japan. If you choose to wear a skirt, there will be pantyhose. Also, anything considered trendy is not acceptable. Although my office is not a strict dress code environment, I do my best to dress the part, pantyhose included.  The silver lining of dressing up for work every day is definitely dressing down for everything else.

If language and a dress code aren't enough of a challenge, there are the customs to contend with. There are very specific ways to present and accept business cards for example, and also to serve tea or coffee. I have a very helpful coworker who coaches me on such things, and for that I am exceedingly grateful.

Thus far work is going well. I do my best to be competent at what I know and ask questions about the things I don't know. Some days are more successful than others, but I'm happy to have the work. It keeps me occupied, gives me a place to go and most importantly offers a rarefied experience that I simply never truly expected to have in life.

I do so enjoy Lemonade.