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It's a fine line between living for the moment and being a sociopath.

Patricia B McConnell: For The Love Of A Dog.

Pema Chodron: The Places That Scare You

Daniel Wallace: Mr Sebastian & the Negro Magician

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. --Pablo Neruda

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Location: Oxfordshire, United Kingdom

100 things about me

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Sunday, July 27, 2008

Randy Pausch: RIP

The Last Lecturer dies.

Hat tip to Scootergrrl.

Fandango del Slosho

Another summer. Another margarita party.

Geri del Fuego

Geri del Fuego with Gringo Spencer

Winners of the First Annual British Lawn Salsa tournament.



Tuesday, July 15, 2008

First in a while, but not sure about continuing

I used to read Harper's Weekly Review -- a sardonic newsletter of current events -- the minute it hit my in-box. Then, as I got busier and busier at work, and the tone of world events became overwhelmingly negative with the Bush bulldozer plowing all optimism in its path, I started letting Harper's lie fallow for longer and longer periods. It often succumbed to auto-archiving before I got around to opening it.

Eventually, I stopped reading it altogether. Some combination of too busy and too depressed got the better of my loyalty.

For I-don't-know-what reason, today, for the first time in a months, I opened the most recent issue up when it landed in the in-box. And it immediately remineded me both why I'd stopped reading it, and why I loved it in the first place.

The bad:

The Environmental Protection Agency announced that the value of an American's "statistical life" was $6.9 million, $1 million less than 5 years ago. Republican strategist Karl Rove ignored a subpoena to testify before the House Judiciary Committee, citing "executive privilege," ... President George W. Bush met with other world leaders at the G8 summit to discuss climate change. "Goodbye," he said as he left, grinning and punching the air, "from the world's biggest polluter."

And the good:

A British teenager who assumed that tremors in her bosom were caused by her vibrating mobile phone found a baby bat nestling in the padding of her 34FF bra.

I'm wavering.


Sunday, July 13, 2008

Homage to Mom and to Cricket

That was my weekend: 100 burritos and one of the most boring days of test cricket in history. But, hey, at least I was with my Flame-Haired Angel both when elbow deep in refried beans *and* when sitting at Lord's. And yummy friends Richard and Caroline were as generous and sexy as always, even if they were only up to the cricket, and not so much the orgy of burrito making.

Sunday, July 06, 2008


Sometimes this corporate traveling gig works.

This week, I got to return to Shanghai for the first time in four years. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about the city. Given how fast it changes, I wondered if it would still feel like "my" Shanghai. Nor was I certain about the value of the meetings I was flying 24 hours round-trip to attend. One thing I was certain about: joy at the prospect of seeing some of my dear friends again.

Turns out the city, even in its hyper growth, has not changed so radically as to alienate my memories of it. I felt affection for the place on every sidewalk I wandered. Even the meetings that were the reason for the trip were worth the effort. But the real treat was as expected: getting to see some of the folks so dear to me. Though there were a couple of notable absences at the tables, the continuity of the love in these friendships ambushes time and distance and pummels them into submission.