
Friday, I saw a photography presentation at the SF Zen Center. The slideshow documented the man's 3 week trek through the Everest Region in Nepal. A couple years ago, I fell in love with a man who climbed to the top of Everest. When he told me he lived part-time in Nepal, I decided to go. I found a volunteer organization I could work for in Gokyo. Last minute, I decided to move to San Francisco instead. I now realize, on my way to Gokyo, I would have frozen into an ice statue. Trekker's passing me by would ask their Sherpa: And what white skinned Buddhist deity is that? Unfortunately, Nepal is not Narnia. I'd be stuck there, in eternal winter, indefinitely. Nobody would come to save me. The slideshow was incredible though. After Alaska, I'd love to visit this place. I'd live at a lower elevation city, like Pokhara. Then I could do the Everest Base Camp and Annapurna Circuit out of there!
I read 3 reviews trashing The Great Gatsby movie. After seeing the phenomenal film, I'm convinced Scott Fitzgerald would have been my green light. Even though he may have been an overbearing asshole of a husband, he was a genius. I too I might stick it out with a man who could write the lines: "Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to him, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted things had diminished by one.”
Tuesday was my last day of class. In psychopathology I got bored discussing diagnosis, so I started youtubing soccer highlights. When I switched browsers, the mute buttoned turned off, filling the entire classroom with the loud sound of soccer announcers. Luckily, during the semester I had spent enough time participating in class. So rather than chastise my internet viewing, my professors pretended not to hear anything.
Tuesday morning, I'm looking forward to having breakfast with my mom, brother, and Ghengis back home in the east bay!
Quote:
"It had not take him long after his guitar arrived that all [Hendrix] really wanted to do in life was to play the guitar. It was his sister, his woman, his muse, his release. Hendrix, shy and awkward in his teenage years, spent so much time with his guitar that he literally brought it to bed with him." Guitar Zero: The Science of Becoming Musical at Any Age by Gary Marcus