japan, part II

I never finished Japan, so here you go.

The A-Bomb Dome in Hiroshima.

Radiation Effects Research Center (formerly Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission)

Four hibakusha (被爆者 or bomb-affected persons) we met with - the woman with them is a hibakusha as well, and one of the youngest survivors (6 mos. old). She travelled with us.

My pitiful attempt at a paper crane.

The "floating" torii at the Itsukushima Shrine near Hiroshima - it's one of the Three Views of Japan, which were determined in 1643, and that kind of blows my mind.

Floating lanterns at the Hiroshima lantern ceremony. In honor of those who died, especially those who died crying mizu or "water" - messages of peace are written on the sides and they're sent down the rivers.

Nagasaki memorial. I think it's really peaceful (and it feels like you're underwater)

One of the most lovely nights, we spent in a restaurant as the only people speaking English, eating delicious yakitori.

These are strands of paper cranes - gifts of 1000 are given at these memorial ceremonies in memory of Sadako Sasaki, a young girl who contracted leukemia after Hiroshima, and started to fold 1000 paper cranes (which traditionally gives you a wish). Stories differ, but the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum says she finished, and has some of her cranes there. She died in 1955, aged 12.

Sushi.

It's hard to express the highs and lows, and how close we got to our peace families. Here, we're on top of a mountain in Nagasaki overlooking the harbor, on almost our last night.

I was interviewed by NHK, a TV station in Japan, about my experience at the Nagasaki ceremony.

We returned to Tokyo, and the electronic city was closed.

I have so many more photos, but this will have to do for now.

short trip, long trip home

Well, I headed to San Francisco for the weekend.  This was to be a relatively uneventful trip -- of course, it was a bit more of an adventure.  

Fortunately, the weekend itself was lovely.  Friday was quiet, and I took a trip into San Francisco to meet up with my cousin Amanda & her friend Brittney.  They're both studying abroad this next semester, and it makes me so happy.  I so loved my time abroad, and it's such a chance to branch out, travel, and really come into ones own.  It changed me so much, and now, I just can't wait to go back.  Of course, that has to wait.

But this time, I headed back to Eric and Lisa's and had a quiet night.  We knew that another 8 people were showing up that night (ok, 3 a.m.) so we relished the calm.  

The session was the next day, and it was... amazing.  Probably one of the best we've ever had.  Engaging, funny, dark, plot-focused... It managed to completely take my breath away, and I was so glad I went.  More on exactly why later, though, because we must focus on the road home. 

My flight was cancelled due to thundersnow in DC, and the first flight out that I could get on was at 7pm.  Fortunately, I was rescued by Lisa, who fed me and we chatted non stop for 5 hours.  From there, I present my trip in photographic form.  

I think that pretty much sums it up.   I have never been happier to see mini-bagels in my life.  

More on the session itself later. 

lots of comics

So these past two weekends, I embraced my (not so) inner nerd, and went to two comic conventions.  Technically, the Baltimore Comic Con and SPX, the Small Press Expo.  Personally, I preferred the latter, but that's because even at BCC, I spent most of the time with the independent comic artists, and that is all SPX is!  Fantastic. 

I ended up meeting creators of some of my favorite comics, including Kate Beaton, David Malki!, Dresden Codak, Danielle Corsetto, A Softer World and some fabulous artists that I bought art from: Dave Perillo, Jonathan Case, David Peterson and a few others.  Wonderful.  Also I picked up a billion posters of DC Comic characters (free) a ring like the Flash, and things like that but I liked meeting all the artists better.  

As a result, I loved SPX.  It was funky, a younger crowd, less crowded, more tattoos, and everyone was totally sweet.  I had big long discussions with people about 18th century comics and things like that, and got Claire a sketch by Kate Beaton, whose history comics we both adore.

Here is all my swag!  If you click on the image, it'll take you to where I've put notes on what exactly things are.  Just know that they are all fabulous.

The Mos Eisley picture -- which I love -- is now in my bathroom (which, incidentally, I am remodeling and photos will come shortly) and I am debating where to put the ROM SPACE KNIGHT (the Wraith Brides one) poster, as well as the Softer World print (far right).  We'll see. 

Phew!  Back to work.  I have been drowning (slowly) in reading, but so far it is all going well.  

hanna blocks our road

So today, as some readers may know, is when Tropical Storm Hanna makes her way through the DC area.   Because of this (and the pouring rain) Josh and I decided to adventure.  It was then that we noticed that our street had been closed off.  

We sat and watched cars driving down the road and then suddenly realizing there was a) a torrential flood and b) a cone in the middle of the road and c) caution tape.  It was fantastic, but, curiosity piqued, we ventured further.  Later, we wandered up to where a bridge crosses the creek -- we cross there to get to the Metro -- and the creek was incredibly wide and fast.  Unreal. 

This is looking down the hill (thankfully) from our house.  The creek on one side of the road has overflowed over the road leading into the creek on the other side.

Here is the waterfall from the road into the creek.  You can't really tell how high or how fast the water is here, but take our word for it:

Here is the physical proof that we were there - we are standing in some of the "shallower" waters -- which, being said, it was ankle-to-knee deep in the middle of the road, but don't worry Mom, not where it was fast nor very close to any edges.

I also hasten to add while it is not evident in these photos, it was pouring the whole time.  We got pretty soaked.  That being said, it was absolutely worth it.

a brief summary of events

Well, I have been away from the blogosphere, but now I'm back!  In the past few weeks, I went through Christian Science Class Instruction, which, in a nutshell, is an intensive two week class that teaches the basics of being a Christian Science practitioner.  It's long to explain, but there's a good explanation here, and this article explains the basics of a healing practice -- or just ask me any questions if you see me.

What was lovely -- apart from Class itself -- was the chance to spend two weeks, alone, in lovely St. Petersburg, Florida.  

This was my backyard:

There were these beautiful big banyan trees downtown. I biked down there a few times, then got a hold of a VW Beetle Convertible, and my speed increased dramatically.

On a beautiful day, I sat on this grass and stared up at the sky for ages.

The neat thing about St. Pete is that it looks, in certain sections that I frequented, like a cross between Hawai'i and Balboa Island.  All the docks for boats, the wide sidewalks and edges over the water, all made me miss Balboa summers something fierce.  That, accompanied with the palm trees (of course there are palms in Balboa too) and the light humidity made me miss Hawai'i.

I met this kid while biking along the Balboa section.  He pointed out a shark to me in the distant bay, told me how I could tell it was a shark, showed me the fish that he'd caught, took a heart out of the fish to show me, and then demonstrated how the dorsal fin on a Pinfish works (hinged!).  It was absolutely fantastic.

For the whole shebang of Floridian photographs, go to my flickr set.

my pilgrimage

Yesterday marked a high point in my life-- that fulfilling of a Childhood Dream to visit Cape Canaveral.   Starting in approximately 5th grade (release date of Apollo 13: June 15, 1995), I became absolutely obsessed with the early space program, devouring every book I could find and drawing diagrams of Command-Service Modules, LEMs, Saturn V rockets, and lists of astronauts on a particular green binder.  

This love has always been bubbling along since then-- through other obsessions, it has remained-- and nourished every once in a while.  A new documentary ("In the Shadow of the Moon") a new book ("Moondust"-- absolutely wonderful, incidentally), or a friend (Josh) that shared my love so much that he brought me back oven mitts shaped like astronaut gloves.  I got him an inflatable Saturn V.

So of course, my trip to Cape Canaveral was not just a trip.  It was a pilgrimage.  

As a result of this being a bit of a historic trip, this is a long post.  Consider yourself warned.  I've linked to some of my photos, but the rest are here.  

My main goal was to visit the historic launching pads.  Apollo 1, for some inexplicable reason, has always had a tight hold on me, and I came with the almost express purpose of visiting Pad 34.  That was where, during a routine check the day before the launch, a fire swept through the full-oxygen environment of the Command Module, and killed the 3 astronauts inside: Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee.   Grissom had been one of the "Mercury 7," and the second American in space, and was one of the prime candidates for the first walk on the moon.  White had been the first American to walk in space, and this was Chaffee's first mission.

Of course, this event sent shockwaves--that is, of course, putting it lightly-- through NASA, and caused a total (safer) redesign of the hatch, a new nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere, less flammable velcro, insulated wires, and more.  What boggles my mind is that it was difficult to find even a mention of this at the Kennedy Space Center.  Frankly, it was difficult to find Apollo or previous missions.  

What saddens me is that those are the missions that are truly on the bleeding edge, always innovating and reaching further towards the moon.  I realize now we are in a time of complacency, because we have no Cold-War competitor like the USSR that is capable of overtaking us in a new Space Race, and perhaps that is why we should look back still.  There was complacency after we had landed on the moon, and now that seems implausible; we had landed on the moon, a feat that we have not yet repeated, and yet America was bored.  America is bored now, not because the Shuttle missions couldn't be interesting, but because the focus is on ant farms and science projects that have no foreseeable future as theories for lunar bases and life on Mars are thrown about, but have looming budget cuts and a disinterested government to compete with.

But I digress.  It was Mercury, Gemini and Apollo that originally captured our imaginations, and it is those missions that are relegated to off-site museums and hidden exhibits, in the shadow of Shuttle Launch Simulators and space-themed eateries.

There is, in theory, a "Apollo / Saturn V Center" on the premises.  It does, amazingly, contain the original Firing Room for Apollo -- the desks in Florida where they monitored the spaceship prior to liftoff and give the official go/no-go for launch.  They even simulate a launch, turning on all the bells and whistles that make it come to life--- complete with rattling windows in the back, presumably, to simulate what it would sound like were a Saturn V lifting off nearby. 

However, as I walked out from that room, after taking copious amounts of photographs, I was expecting to be confronted with an extensive exhibit on the Apollo program.  Instead, I walked into a long hall the length of a Saturn V, with the eponymous rocket hanging above, the space decorated in cartoonish primary colors and smelling of french fries from the "Moon Rock Café" located at somewhere around the second stage.  In truth, the Apollo / Saturn V Center was little more than a glorified café/giftshop, with large versions of Apollo patches hanging from the ceiling, to use up dead space.  It was, in truth, profoundly disappointing.

In such a state, I returned to the main Visitor's Center, with the intent to visit a few more things.  The gift shop was on the way, and I poked my head in, only to be boggled by the sheer amount of things that can be only termed "space kitsch."   Slogans like "Failure is Not an Option" (never actually said) and "Let's do Launch" are emblazoned on everything from shot glasses to mousepads, and in ways that are in no means aesthetically pleasing, but look amateurish at best. 

Fortunately, as I left, things began to take a turn for the better.  I went to the Rocket Garden, which is a collection of old rockets, and not, to my friend Becky's dismay, an actual garden.  It's got Mercury/Redstone, a Gemini/Titan, and all sorts of neat early space rockets. 

At the back of the Rocket Garden was a building labelled Early Space in a new-Tomorrowland (I mean that in not the best of ways) font, with a Gemini capsule attached.   I headed back; it looked closed.  It was, however, open, and where all of the information about Mercury, Gemini and, to some extent, Apollo, had been relegated.   The exhibit was o-k.  Some neat space-age-era lunchboxes and playing cards and things like that, which I think are just fantastic, but not much to my recollection in the way of artifacts.  

Then, I turned the corner.   There, sitting in front of me, alone, behind glass, was Mission Control for the Mercury missions.  Mission.  Control.   I can't express how cool this was.   (This room!) Tiny Mercury capsule on the map, to chart the progress of orbital missions, Bakelite phones, all the switches and dials and computing power that is probably in a programmable wristwatch.  

The slight damper on this was in order to tell the story of Mercury Mission Control, the museum had a film with a woman who I'm sure was called "zany" that went back into Mission Control and spent 5 minutes being confused by assorted titles of stations in Mission Control.  I hasten to add that the positions are not that complicated, and the titles -- conveniently -- usually describe the job.  I rarely say this, but as a woman, and in particular, a woman fascinated by the space program, I was aghast and actually quite offended.  It came off as if these "complicated" areas of early NASA were too complicated for a woman, let alone a modern woman to comprehend.   I'm sure it remains alienating to children as well, who are then convinced that such things are too complicated and then turn all their attention to IMAX, which I'm sure delivers information in succint, bite-sized, boring chunks. 

So I left. 

I headed off Merritt Island (technically what that part of "the Cape" is called), west towards the "Astronaut Hall of Fame."  I still argue it is perhaps the dumbest name for a site, and I would have driven by, had Josh not insisted that I stop in.  

This was what I had wanted the Visitor's Center to be like.  I walked in, and the first step in the exhibit is an open copy of a first edition of Jules Verne's From the Earth to the Moon.  Illustrated!  Also Buck Rogers, and all sorts of olde-tyme texts and images that showed how people thought we would go to the moon. 

The next room had banners of all the Mercury 7 astronauts, and as I turned around, I saw a Mercury suit -- recognizable for the most part due to its uncanny similarity to my Mercury Astronaut GI JOE (who knew?) -- and looked closer, realized it was Gus Grissom's.   That is how this museum began.  

There was a timeline that kept you abreast of NASA events, panels that showed the different astronaut pools (Original 7, New 9, &c), LOTS of artifacts, and the whole time they have speakers overhead with newsreels from the specific years, spelling out what else is going on in America when these men are flying into space.  Fantastic!  Also:  Apollo 14 CM.  Neat.  A beautiful memorial hallway for Apollo 1, with a quote from Grissom that I had never seen before:

If we die, we want people to accept it.  We are in a risky business and we hope that if anything happens to us it will not delay the program.  The conquest of space is worth the risk of life. 

Wow.   

From there, I walked around, and since I was the only one (basically) in the museum, spent 10 minutes in a mock-up of a Mercury capsule (clearly not made for anyone with hips) and just stared at the instrumentation.   Apollo had always been the most interesting for me, but it was here, on my back, jammed into a seat staring at dials, that I finally had closure.  Even if the rest of the Center was terrible, this moment was worth it-- sitting there, knowing that you are in the same position, thinking about the same things:  the wonders of life, and the next steps in the exploration of space.   I didn't ever want to leave.

disney-bound

Well, I've been in Orlando, FL for the past few days and this is the first chance I've really got to post.   I'm here at a convention, and yesterday, post-exhibition and during-thunderstorm, we decided to head to Disney World.  

This is us in the parking lot, realizing what it would take to endure the rain:

Fantasyland becomes Poncholand

Tiki Room's waterfall is supplemented by the waterfalls from the roof...!

...and finally,  a view of the Main Street, USA train station:

It was, even with all the rain, an absolutely wonderful time.  We saw fireworks and a parade with a deliciously handsome Prince Charming, and it was just a day filled with happiness. 

off into the horizon!

This photograph has absolutely nothing to do with anything, except that it was Tom's birthday, so Becky made him a cake, which the boys then decorated with sprinkles and miniature WWII soldiers and tanks.   It makes me giggle.

That being said, today -- as I am writing late, as I pack (late, as usual) -- is my last day of work, and first day of my month of travels.  Expect updates, as I have goals of visiting Cape Canaveral and taking all kinds of photographs while hiking through Utah! 

summer-time outings

So as a welcome to Summer-time, a few of us headed off to a Washington Nationals game.  I can't remember the last time I've been to a baseball game, but let's get serious, we weren't there for the game.   Weather was great, seats were cheap with a great view, and the food (outsourced from local DC places) was delicious.  We very quickly resolved to make it a monthly (if not bi-weekly) outing.

Here Josh attempts to find something -- I think the velocity of a pop fly -- through geometry and / or  physics:

Tom is very excited about baseball.  (Not really!)  The light was so pretty, though...

The next day, I searched out where my Mom's cousins live, as I had a niggling feeling that it was close to where I'm currently temping.  As it turns out, it is not only close, but officially .4 miles away.  So I walked.  Meandered actually, as I am a fast walker and was afraid I would arrive too soon for supper.

Supper was delicious, and while I have no photos of the boys this time (see: Easter) I managed to play football, soccer, and read Marco 3 bedtime stories, while promising 2 more the next time I came 'round.  Susan said that she should have expected as much, as she sent a self-proclaimed lover of books to read stories... what she didn't count on is that I recognized the books from my childhood, and so was far too excited to read them again!  The official count was:  "The Little Island,"  "My Friend is Sad" (neither of which I had read before, but Island is beautifully illustrated) and "Put Me in the Zoo" (which I had), and I spotted "Each Peach Pear Plum," which I had no memory of until I spotted the cover.

What follows are some pictures of my walk to their house.  So pretty.

outdoorsy

The weather has been beautiful recently, which means I am now entering my phase of missing working outdoors 40 hours a week.  Yes, it can be miserable (see: Virginia Summer) but Springtime and Fall are bliss. 

 Today was a beautiful day in DC, and as I walked to nearby family's house (right near work!) I realized how perfect for walking the weather was.  A lovely 60°, crisp enough to offset the heat from walking, and sunny.   So as a result, I started of thinking back to working at Williamsburg.  Even though the lovely weather is what you look forward to, it's the dreadful weather that you remember. 

I talked to Amy today about the day we worked during Tropical Storm Ernesto, and of course she remembers the whole day.  We spent most of it together, huddled underneath cloaks, trying to avoid puddles (and failing), making our way down the Duke of Gloucester street towards the shops where we were assigned that day.   Meanwhile, tree branches were falling around us. 

We made it to the Wig Shop, where I was assigned, and I realized quite quickly I was soaked through, and so took of layer upon layer until I was barefoot, wearing my chemise, stays, and bed gown.  

To those not intimately familiar with Early American Textiles, I was wearing a knee length cotton nightgown, a fully-boned corset ("stays"), and a woolen knee-length wrapper that vaguely resembles a bathrobe.  Colonially naked.  

All of my clothing at this point was strewn across the shop, along various ropes, as I lamented being chosen for the one shop that had a fireplace that didn't draw. 

Needless to say, it was a rather uneventful day for guests (total: 13) but we interpreters had fun.  The electricity went off, and we didn't realize it until a few hours later, and I trekked across the river that Duke of Gloucester had become to peek in the Millinery shop, and managed to find not only a fireplace, but soup and hot chocolate that they had heated up in the fireplace.  I watched my shoes steam slightly as they became slowly less damp, and wiggled my toes in my wet stocking feet while I sipped my soup. 

It sounds miserable, but I don't remember that.   It's filed under other outdoors days, full of fresh rainstorms, cool breezes, and blissful sunny days.  

"I thought the music mattered"

Today, spontaneously, I went to a rock concert.   I was invited to come with a group of friends, and, oddly enough, I went.  

Usually I'd be so tired from work that I wouldn't feel like social interaction but today, I headed out.  It was a tour of the front man of the band System of a Down, Serj Tankian.

It was great.  Unexpectedly great.  I forget about how many major formative experiences in my youth (hah!) were from live music.  I love it.  I love the communal nature of it, how everyone is there together for the same purpose, and I love that you can just let the music wash over you.  

Even though this was an act -- hard rock -- that I wouldn't dream of usually seeing, there's something about being there and letting the music take the lead. 

Someone lit a lighter during one of the songs -- I had forgotten how beautiful the æsthetic of a flame against all the shadows of heads and lights of the stage could be.  I think the blue-glow of phones is lovely (particularly when we were at the Hollywood Bowl's Sound of Music sing-a-long), but it had been so long since I had seen anyone actually use a lighter.  It was so bright and clear and that orange against the blue lights -- and only a flicker of it, as it was alone in the crowd.   Lovely.

Now, I'm home, and off to bed, after quite a ride.

trips north & south and into space

over the shoulder
Originally uploaded by hummeline

Well, it is already Tuesday, and Claire & I have been quite busy.  Saturday she arrived, and we immediately headed out to a Pirate-themed restaurant / bar (yep) where my friends were gathering for a release party of a new CD of a pirate band!  Claire got along swimmingly with the rest, due to well-timed references to Mystery Science Theatre 3000, among other shrines of nerdliness.

Sunday a lovely Easter spent with family, which contained the event of our cousin admitting to our staunchly Republican family that she is interning at the DNC, which was blurted out, confession-like, after we had earlier banned all political discussion.  Of course, having a family gathering without a discussion about politics is not likely to happen, and we were summarily roped into a lively discussion about the current slate of presidential hopefuls. 

Claire & I headed then south to Williamsburg to ogle pretty clothes (and handsome men in them) and meet with friends.  It proved to be quite fun, as we met up with most of the old crew that wears funny old-fashioned clothes, as evidenced on the right. 

Now, Claire & I  have just finished disc 1 of Battlestar Galactica Season 3, the whole of which I must finish by April 4th at 10 pm, when season 4 begins.  Have faith in me. 

Also, we made enchiladas!  Please enjoy the picture of our creation, along with some lovely Gaius Baltar being the embracer of Cylons that he always is.  Mmm...delicious.   So say we all.

riding on the side of the trolley.

So today was actually day 2 of my trip to San Francisco -- which I claimed was my first, but realized that I'd actually been before -- and it was fantastic.  

Day 1 is (kind-of) summarized here [at welcome to thomasville, the family blog] and I will add further explanations of strange stories.   

For starters, after a lovely trip around Golden Gate Park, we were walking towards my cousin Amanda, who goes to school at the University of San Francisco.  We started admiring this house, and a man standing outside, looking up at the house with arms crossed, asked us what we thought.  Of course, it's a gorgeous Victorian...!  He then proceeds to invite us inside to see the renovation he just completed!   Want.  

Also, here is proof we did not get lost (even though we trusted my sense of direction!) and managed to find the Japanese Tea Garden, which is absolutely breathtaking.  I climbed a giant bridge -- and the picture is the view of Mom from the very tip-top.

Today we headed down to Fisherman's Wharf, and took a cable car to get there.  We managed -- as is so typical with trips I take -- to get stuck twice, and had to be pushed by a truck with what appeared to be a trolley-plow attached to the front end.

However, we made it to the Wharf, and got denied to go to Alcatraz, so wandered instead, managing to find our way inside the Musée Mecanique, which is basically a warehouse full of olde-tyme coin-operated stereoscopic viewers and mechanical amusement goodness. 

 I present the mechanical Opium Den, which involved a dragon snaking its way into the scene, and an opium addict shuddering.  Heh. 

Also, here I am waching the UNKNOWN, which apparently, in the 1920s, just meant naked ladies with veils over parts of them.  Fantastic.

Finally ended up at Ghiradelli's for ice cream sundaes.

On the way back, we attempted cable car again, and this time: success!  Managed to snag Mom a seat in the front, and I hung on the outside, which was, of course, my intent from the beginning.  Almost smacked into some car side mirrors, but managed the ride relatively unscathed. 

For more pictures & things of that nature, I'll be posting to my flickr account.  Here are specifically SF photos.