My lovely spouse and I have just returned from a week in San Diego. For those of you picturing sunny climes, fun beaches, and special activities, I hate to disillusion you; we’ve returned from one of the most harrowing experiences known to educated beings: the California Bar Exam. Part of my absence from this blog has been due to a last-minute flurry of activity in our humble abode: reviewing 13 different subject areas, replete with impromptu flash-card sessions and the like. In a sense, both of us underwent a bunker mentality for the last month or so, intensifying in the last couple weeks prior to leaving for the bar. Although I have (thankfully!) nothing to do with the bar itself, I’ve been the support system in this household since Christmas week, so it’s been a bit exhausting for me. Of course, the test-taker is totally wiped out– she’s been studying non-stop for the last fourteen weeks prior to the bar. Her schedule went something like this: get up, eat, study, eat, study, go to bar prep class, eat, study, bed. An average of 8-12 hours daily studying, plus class, with just enough time to sleep and then start all over again. For a taste of her perspective, you can see her own musings here.

This week has been a mixture of relaxation and ultimate stress. Daily our heroine braves the innards of the San Diego Concourse (in the San Diego Civic Center downtown) while her erstwhile champion amuses himself, mostly by watching the Olympics at the hotel (oh, what a stressful thing to do!). In the evenings, they go to such trendy places as the Gaslamp Quarter to dine, unwind, and forget.

Nevertheless, it’s an experience neither of us wants to repeat, the joys of San Diego notwithstanding. As a sort of celebration earlier today, we stopped on our way home at Torrey Pines State Reserve and hiked for a couple of hours. For the next couple weeks, we’ll take a stay-at-home-and-recuperate vacation, then get back to reality: taking care of stuff we ignored since the beginning of the year, getting a jump start on spring cleaning, and of course, the joys of job hunting. Wish us luck.

It’s a few days late, but in today’s San Francisco Chronicle is a tale of Old California, a story I’ve heard before, but it is still sad and romantic regardless. I think each region of the country has its own stories of love, tales of star-crossed affairs, tragic involvements that bring a flutter to the heart and a tear to the eye.

This one involves the daughter of the commandant of the Presidio in San Francisco, Concepcion Arguello, and a Russian, Nicolai Rezanov, a member of the Tsar’s court– a curious intersection of California’s past. Most people are familiar with the Spanish heritage and influence on this part of the world, but not too many people know that the Russians, long familiar with the coastal regions in, around, and south of Alaskan waters, ventured as far south as California. But come they did. (If you’re ever in the mood for a day trip from San Francisco, you can skip going to Sitka and go to Fort Ross instead. There, you’ll see a surviving residence, and reconstructions of the rest of the southernmost Russian outpost on the West Coast).

The tale of Arguello and Rezanov’s ill-fated romance makes me wonder: in that situation, would I wait forever for someone who would never return? Would I reject any future possibility of love if I lost someone that I thought was “The One”? For that matter, in this day and age, would such a loss prompt me to up and join the Church? I suppose in the San Francisco of 1806, where a tiny military outpost surrounded by widespread ranchos, there weren’t too many opportunities for love and romance. What do you think?

Well, once again, it’s Valentine’s Day– a holiday that I predict will one day be wholly subsidized by FTD, Russell Stover, See’s, and De Beers, but not necessarily in that order. For some people, it’s a way to get all romantic and mushy. For others, it’s a day to mimic the holiday’s earliest origins (if you really want to get into it, you can place a personals ad at Craigslist for a fellow devotee of S&M). For a number of us, such as an old acquaintance of mine, it’s a birthday (while for most of us, it’s an unbirthday). Quite a few folks celebrate their wedding anniversaries today as well. For true history buffs, there’s always a remembrance of Al Capone and the days of ‘29. According to the entry at Wikipedia, women buy 85% of all valentines. Hmm…

Usually on Valentine’s Day as a single guy, I either had a date or I didn’t. Some years it meant quite a bit to me; other times it was just an insufferably painful holiday, and in reality, just another day on the calendar. Although she’s still finding her voice, Erin Himmelmann, one of the newest bloggers over at DeafDC.com, has the single woman’s take on the day: The Most Commercialized Holiday of All Times. Gee, Erin, I thought that was Halloween, or perhaps Christmas. I saw Halloween junk in the stores as early as late August, and it can never be too early to put out those Xmas ads all over town.

You might agree with her. Or if you’re married as I am, you might see it as a lovely day, a day to celebrate the one you married (oh, wait– that’s the day of the wedding anniversary!). For me and my walking partner, it’ll be a pleasant evening taking a break from all our worries, both legal and otherwise. Yet, while our hearts are beating as one, in China, lovers everywhere will be celebrating with their noses.

Yep, in an article I spotted online titled “Nothing says love like matching nose jobs,” apparently Chinese couples are celebrating their ardor by getting his-and-hers plastic surgery. Don’t like that hooked beak you inherited from great-auntie Ming? Get the same button your beloved has! You both hate what your genes and fate threw you? Just take a page from Michael Jackson and whittle away!

I’m not sure just how many of our friends in China are shelling out for new faces, but I’d love to see what happens ten or fifteen years from now. Will divorces, deaths, and time and gravity contribute to a new spate of plastic surgery, as people undo the work or get their noses re-built? Will this craze spread elsewhere? I can just see it now: matching nipples! Matching hairlines! Will other nations pick up on this new vogue? I wouldn’t be too surprised, especially here in the land of the brave and the home of the free. People here already get matching tattoos and piercings; so why not matching body parts?

As for me, I think I’ll settle for a quiet evening out at a local bistro and then some quality time afterwards. Happy Valentine’s Day, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing!

It’s been nearly six months since Katrina hit New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. I have no idea how areas outside of New Orleans are faring, since the Corporate Media doesn’t seem to want to say anything much about those po’ folks out in Mississippi or along the coast in Cajun country, but from time to time, there’s a bit here and there about NOLA. Mostly it’s a few paragraphs here and there about how outside of the French Quarter and the majority of the Garden District, the city is struggling to recover. There was a bit of a brouhaha back around Thanksgiving time, when it became known that evacuees were about to be tossed from their hotel rooms and shelters, just in time for the holidays. Luckily someone was smart enough to want to avoid the PR associated with being a scrooge, and these hapless individuals and families were allowed to stay a bit longer. The new deadline’s coming up any day now. Never mind the fact that FEMA had tons of trailers for use– but instead of actually housing people, they’ve been sitting empty in Texarkana and in Hope, Arkansas. While part of the problem seems to be recalcitrance on the part of parishes and counties in Louisiana and Mississippi, it also doesn’t seem like the gummint is getting overly involved in flexing some muscle to make things happen.

They also don’t seem to be too helpful where the money is concerned, either. It was just announced that New Orleans will seek aid from outside the country, since our gummint doesn’t seem too overly enthusiastic about repairing its own cities. I know Smirk will someday have an opportunity to have a nice afternoon lazing around on Trent Lott’s rebuilt front porch, but one wonders how Lott’s constituents feel about all this. Perhaps someone from the Corporate Media, or even better yet, our gummint, should go find out.

Now comes the most interesting (and frustrating, and sad, and crappy, and…) tidbit of all: Good ol’ Brownie decided it was time for him to get his side of the story out, and according to him, our gummint, and more specifically, Smirk and Co. knew about the levee failures almost immediately. So where was Smirk? If you look at this timeline, you’ll see he took his sweet time getting around to dealing with the situation. Let’s see, both the governors of Louisiana and Mississippi declared states of emergency prior to landfall; a federal state of emergency was declared; the Mayor of New Orleans declared mandatory evacuations; and before Katrina fully arrived, Brownie, Smirk, and Chertoff were warned about levee failures by the National Hurricane Center. That was on Sunday, August 28th. It’s not until September 1st that Smirk claimed no one could have foreseen the levees failing. In the meantime, he heads to Arizona to celebrate McCain’s birthday (I think most of us could foresee Smirk being such a fool, but you have to wonder about John McCain– what was he thinking??); goes to Coronado just south of here, where he strums a guitar (if you don’t know what that is, it’s a modern-era lyre); then he heads back to his “ranch” to finish his vacation. (I’ve spoken about Smirk’s role as Nero, back when all this was happening)

Smirk’s posse isn’t much better. Scowl (aka Crashcart) is off on vacation somewhere in Wyoming; Scummy is attending a San Diego Padres game; and Lice is tripping the lights fantastic on the streets of New York. While none of the above are heads of FEMA, perceptions are just as important– and in this case, the current bunch occupying DC has failed miserably. To me, our gummint went AWOL when Katrina landed, and so far, with the exception of Brownie, none has been fully taken to task.