Lost and Loving It

Some things only get better as the years go by. Like my favorite red velour pajama pants. Or Neil Patrick Harris. Or Sawyer from Lost. Oh Sawyer, you have really come into your own as the moody, intimidating tough guy/Head of Dharma Security. And I am so happy that you finally got a new pair of reading glasses.

Oh Sawyer. You might be my favorite villain-turned hero ever. The great thing about an on-going narrative is that the characters have a chance to redeem themselves. Or in Ben's case, redeem themselves and then negate this redemption, and then do it again.

In this new setting--1977 Dharma--Sawyer commands respect like my 11th grade Pre-Calc teacher Mr. Brafalaut (so scary!). I love the irony that Jack's fabricated apptitude test indicated he was best suited for janitorial work. Was this Sawyer's way of getting back at him for being such a pretentious know-it-all? I don't know, but something about Jack fumbling around Dharmatown trying to come up with a plan and getting shut down gave me such satisfaction. Sawyer is a thinker, Jack is a do-er, and having to be submissive to Sawyer's plan-to-be is making Jack wish he had never come back. (Jack, don't forget that just months ago you were standing in the rain with a crazy beard screaming, "We have to go back!!")

Did you know that Winston Churchill said he read a book every day? Well, Sawyer did. He said it helped him to think. Shame on you Jack for implying that reading is a waste of time. "Oh really? You're working on it? Because it looks like you are reading a book."

For the Love of the Sea

When I was in 9th grade, I went on a week-long Biology class field trip to Spieden Island--a bus, a ferry, and a motor boat away from land-locked Eastern Washington where I grew up. It was during this trip, I now believe, that I first felt the draw of the sea.

As our caravan of eight-man motor boats pulled up to the island, a group of awkward and giddy adolescents clamored over each other onto a wobbly wooden dock. It was at this point that someone dropped their flashlight into the water and James Comer, without so much as a second's hesitation, dove right in, Air Jordans and all. That's just the kind of guy James Comer is: he wouldn't think twice about fully submerging himself in the freezing cold Puget Sound water to save someone's four-dollar flashlight. Amazing. Plus, it was like one o'clock in the afternoon--arguably the furthest point in the day from when one might need to have a flashlight out. I saw James Comer two years ago at my ten-year high school reunion, and I am confident that if the situation presented itself again, his reaction would be identical.

I was catapulted into nostalgia-dom over this phenomenal week of fascinating sea-life discovery while I read, no, devoured, The Highest Tide.  Jim Lynch's Puget Sound-based novel features Miles O'Malley, whose internal conflict over the sea and all of her creatures would give even Melville a run for his money. Miles is an abnormal 13-year-old who spends his days and nights combing the flats of Skookumchuck Bay for sea-faring creatures of all varieties. Something about this kid reminds me of Pi Patel (Life of Pi), what with his voracious thirst for scientific knowledge. But instead of a tiger for a friend, Miles has Kenny Phelps, an air-guitar-playing kid obsessed with girls and sneaking into places he's not allowed. You know, normal teenage stuff--which makes him a perfect foil for our pal Miles. Anyway...this book not only charmed the pants off of me, it reminded me of the vastness of the ocean and all that lies beneath. It made me glad I live so close to the beach--not a SoCal beach with bikinis and beach umbrellas and a freeway running close by, but a rocky, isolated, Pacific Northwest beach literally just down the street from my house.

Why I Hate the Mac, volume 76

Just because someone is pretty, is not a good enough reason to refrain from punching them in the face. Which is the thought I am having, even now, as I stare down my life's current antagonist. 

Why? Well, I'll tell you. I have been working on obtaining my National Board teaching certificate for two years. TWO YEARS! National Board certified teachers "meet rigorous standards through intensive study, expert evaluation, self-assessment and peer review." (as per their website) Are you even interested in this? I'll cut to the chase. I removed a flash drive containing highly important and nearly complete documents from my loverly computer yesterday (after saving, and saving again) and upon replacing it, the computer informed me (in red and caps--such tact!): it is unreadable.

Now, I know you are thinking what my husband had the audacity to say to me at least three times last night. No, I did not save it anywhere else. Yes, I am sure. Yes, I learned a valuable lesson about backing things up. Well, screw you all because I have learned that lesson MANY TIMES BEFORE in my life. And I maintain that I absolve myself of any blame in this situation. I blame in this order: 1) Steve Jobs for coming up with the idea in the first place; 2) my husband for buying into it; 3) my parents for making me so neurotic. 

You may also be throwing around the second-greatest question my trouble-shooting husband asked me: "Did the flash drive come into contact with any magnets?" The answer is yes--I keep a giant magnet on hand at all times.

So a word to the wise: don't trust it, the pretty face is just masking a villain. And quit playing with your magnets so close to the computer.