| December 17, 2003 | Sunrises over Sunnyvale and the Painted Desert |
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It's still in the forties here in the Bay Area. Maybe the low fifties, and I'm using a space heater to try to warm my room. (Like most old Victorian houses in San Francisco, ours doesn't really have central heating.) And to all the people who are telling me I'm such a wussy complaining about the cold weather -- I'm sorry, but I just think it's my god-given right to wear open-toed shoes year-round OK? That's why I live in California. I have delicate kitten heel shoes and pretty pedicures I'd like to show-off, thank you very much. Yesterday evening Allyson and Jacqueline and I were watching an incredible sunset out the window of their shared cube over the drab gray windowless Lockheed Martin compound next door. It started dark pink and and red as if the Santa Cruz mountains were leaking blood into the sky. It was completely post-apocalyptic. (For visual assistance, here is a photo I took of the sunset over the Lockheed Martin building last year one night after it rained. I took the photo out the same window, and you can see the florescent lights and our office's paneled ceiling reflected in the glass.) "The poor Lockheed Martin workers don't have any windows so they can't even look outside at all," I said, before quickly following up with, "I suppose that's what they get for building bombs." Yeah, I guess we can feel smugly satisfied because we're building virtually harmless internet products. "Do they have sunsets like this anywhere else in the country?" Jacqueline (a Bay Area native) asked. Before Allyson could respond, I said, "No, definitely not. I can't remember sunsets like this in Massachusetts or New York." Jeff called on my cell this morning as I was driving into the office. He flew from New York to Los Angeles yesterday to spend his 30th birthday in the promised land. He's staying at Chris and Hillary's new place, which I was overjoyed to learn is in our old neighborhood near the big-ass Mormon temple on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Los Angeles. "It's beautiful, Jess!" Jeff practically gushed. Jeff can be a rather stoic guy (we were raised in New England, after all), so I love it whenever he gets excitement in his voice. "It's 75 degrees, and I was watching the sunset from their deck last night. It was really amazing!" "We were watching the sunset in Sunnyvale last night at work too, and one of my co-workers asked me if the sunset is as pretty in other parts of the country. I told her I was pretty sure it wasn't, but is that true, and if so, why?" "I do remember some decent sunsets in Brooklyn, but I think the sky is just always clearer here, so you can see it more," Jeff said. I'm driving down to Los Angeles on Saturday morning so I can help Jeff celebrate his 30th birthday properly. We've been friends since we were 15-years-old, and now we're both about to turn 30. Crazy, huh? Weirder still is the fact that we've both felt like we were 30, as far back ago as when we were 25. (Budding blog archeologist Esther dug up this 1999 blog-post and forwarded it in an email to Jeff and me a few weeks ago, asking, "Do you both *still* feel like you're 30 every day when you get up?" My answer: "No, now I feel like I'm about 22." Jeff and I actually hated each other when we first met first semester of our freshman year in high school. We ran against each other in a student council election. Jeff won (he's a much better politician than I am), and I'm a bad loser. But sophomore year we were two of the only brave students who signed up to take Latin class, so we bonded while translating Caesar's Commentaries on the Gallic Wars. Here is a photo I took of Jeff in front of one of the parabolic dishes at the Very Large Array in Socorro, New Mexico during our incredible "South by South by Southwest" road-trip in March 2002. During that trip we saw one of the most incredible sunsets over the painted desert driving West from New Mexico into Arizona. Labels: allyson, jeff, sanfrancisco, siliconvalley, sunrise, yahoo posted by Jess Barron @ 7:00 PM 
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| April 4, 2003 | The Party Car |
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About an hour ago I entered my apartment building and I walked into the elevator along with my neighbor. We were both coming home after at the conclusion of our day's at work. "I don't always carry half full bottles of beer in my gym bag," I said when he looked down at my half open duffle bag and noticed the Pete's Wicked Ale poking out between my sports bra and my running shoes. "I've just come from the party car!" He just looked at me quixotically. This evening -- after spending the past two years riding caltrain round-trip from San Francisco down to Silicon Valley almost every day -- I found out about the "party car," which apparently has been in existence for the past 8 years. Tonight I left work on the 5p.m. shuttle from Yahoo campus to the Sunnyvale caltrain station. I never usually leave as early as 5 p.m., but now that I'm starting work at 6a.m., I'm making an effort to leave on the 5 p.m. shuttle. So anyway, on the shuttle, everyone's all rowdy and talkative 'cause it's Friday (usually everyone's pretty quiet), and I meet this girl Jen, and she goes, "So, are we all getting on the party car?" "Ummm, what's the party car?" I asked. "On the 81 north train the front-most car is the party car. People bring beer and snacks and they play music and it's a party car. They even have a website," she said, "partycar.com" "What?! I didn't know you could drink on the Caltrain?!" I exclaimed, somewhat shocked. I had never seen anyone imbibing on the train before. Everyone on the Caltrain -- myself included -- always reads the newspaper, types on their laptop, or sends emails on their Blackberry and/or Palm. People don't often talk with the others around them, and no one ever has a flask, beers, or a bottle of wine... "I must experience this party car," I said to Jen, still doubting its existence. At the Sunnyvale station, we boarded the train in the front car. Jen told me that most of the party car peeps get on around Palo Alto. Sure enough, people boarded and started cracking open beers, and within five minutes they asked us, "Hey, do you ladies want a beer?" Jen and I met all the party car peeps and drank a few beers, and I hafta tell you, the hour-long train ride went by really fast. If you take the caltrain, I highly recommend you try out the party car. You won't be disapointed. Next time I'm bringing beer and snacks to share. The message of the story, dear readers, is never let the work-week get you down. There is often an unexpected party car somewhere on the horizon, just waiting to be discovered... The party car has even inspired some phat rhymes from its many attendees. It really doesn't surprise me. The artist behind this one, breaks it down about why the party car is far uperior to driving in your ass up the 101 freeway home to the city: driving on the 101: Mack truck on your rear head on collision traffic frustration mortal fear flirting with death stewing about some thoughtless ass getting cut off by a stupid jerk death wish insanity CHP ticker getting flipped off being stuck in a rubber-neck delay scream and shout breaking down with a car riding in the party car: joining in our weekly cheer ale vs. lager decision friendly conversation Tecate beer TGIF relaxing with Harp and Bass winding down from a hard week at work beer buzz serenity Schlitz Malt Liquor tying one on getting home the partycar way Guiness Stout fortifying with vitamin R Labels: commute, sanfrancisco, sf, siliconvalley, work posted by Jess Barron @ 8:26 PM
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| October 9, 2001 | We're With the Church of Microsoft |
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I'm finally getting over the monster-flu-thing. Today was volunteer day at Microsoft, which means everyone is encouraged to take time out of their workdays to help out in the local community (Silicon Valley). Allyson and I volunteered to make food for the homeless in Palo Alto. With four co-workers, we assembled a hundred or so tuna fish sandwiches, put them into bag lunches with an apple and an Odwalla bar, and then handed them to the people. We finished fast, (probably due to our project management skills), and afterward the volunteer organizer encouraged us to socialize, but it was kind of rocky at first. "What church are you with?" one of the homeless women asked us. Ummm. We weren't really sure how to answer that. "We're with Microsoft," one of our co-workers piped up, and everyone sort of giggled nervously. It was a weird idea, thinking of Microsoft as a religious group. I kept worrying that the people resented us. I ended up talking for a few minutes with a guy named Andre, and he asked me if I had ever met Bill Gates... Labels: allyson, microsoft, siliconvalley, volunteering posted by Jess Barron @ 6:19 PM
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