I recently went to a wedding in Paris.

So...first the "wow" factors: There was a civil service held at a town hall, the reception to that was held at Olivier Mitterand's house. Olivier is the nephew of Francois Mitterand -- former President of France! The wedding ceremony was held two days later at Saint Eustache...I've no idea how they managed to reserve that church (in the center of Paris and many say second in popularity to Notre Dame) for a wedding...not only that, but the person leading the choir at their wedding was the same guy who is asked to sing at all the French special and sporting events! Then there was the abbey...the wedding reception was held about an hour outside Paris. It is this spectacular abbey with this gorgeous pond that welcomed its guests to a plot of land peppered with sculptures. The outdoor reception was picture-perfect, topped off with a beautiful sunset over the abbey itself. The dinner was even more spectacular, a six course meal with all the artery clogging goodness one associates with fine French food. To top it all off, I danced with a beautiful young lady, who, as it turned out, is a direct descendant of Napoleon Bonaparte.

So...those were all the wows, well, at least the ones that I could impress the general public...all within a short 4 day period. If it weren't for the fact that I'm back at work, amazingly tired and jet lagged, I would think that I was dreaming the entire thing. But then...I thought, you know, even if it weren't for all the glitz and glamor, the wedding would have been equally as special to me because it was for a family friend...someone I've known since I was 6 years of age, back in Suriname of all places. The fact that we've kept in touch all these years is really what wowed me most. Although, it's less of a tangible wow -- at least not one that I can easily write about. I'm sure some of you all have this same sense...of wow when it comes to loved ones that you've known for a short or long while. It's the wow that defines the fact that through all the randomness that happens in the world we live in, each and every single one of our lives tell a different story....but all, collectively, are intertwined in some way, shape, or form that enriches each one's own on an individual level. For me, it's especially true for many of those who will end up reading this blog.

I'm still jet lagged ... so please excuse the stream of consciousness writing. But...to all who have or will stumble upon my blog, thanks for reading, leave a note, or two...I thrive off all interactions with all different folks and love the correspondences we've had or shall have in the future. If you're in the SF bay area, let me know...time permitting, would love to catch up in person! Live it up, because who knows where life will take you next?

'til then...cheers! namaste! salut! A votre sante!

http://www.individual.com/story.php?story=81049102

My new kick is bread making. So far, I have two loaves under my belt, a whole wheat loaf and a carrot raisin loaf. There was a third attempt between the two, but that was terribly unsuccessful. It smelled amazing, but because I didn't push the tray all the way down, the paddle (that mixes the ingredients and kneads the dough) didn't engage with the motor. I ended up with a doughy bottom, piled high with the unmixed dry ingredients. It smelled good...but was completely inedible -- yes, I tasted it.

Observation #1: I think (maybe it's just placebo) I can taste the lack of any preservatives in the bread!

Observation #2: Outside the fact that I get to eat fresh baked bread, I get to enjoy the SMELL too -- yumm...

Observation #3: I made pizza dough once from scratch. Making bread with a bread maker machine is infinitely easier.

Last Friday, I was told that I was leading a girl on. On the following Sunday, I was told that it seemed like I had a crush on yet another girl.

I posed the following question to my friend who observed that I was leading a girl on: "If I were to act the same way to a guy, would it be leading him on?". For context, I asked a girl for her number so that we could play tennis. This was followed by the conversation which surfaced our mutual interest in playing tennis.

The Sunday observation came from me "smiling a lot" and "having a good time". Again, I think I do that naturally...with guys or girls, alike.

So, then there's the discussion of "social boundaries". If I went up to a guy friend and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, I might get a punch in the face. Well, same may hold true for a girl in the Bay Area. But, I do this very naturally to my outrigger female friends at paddling practice. It's part of the Hawaiian culture that is propagated naturally at practice sessions. Similarly, it wouldn't be uncommon for me to greet my male family from Holland in that way -- although, I haven't visited in a while...I'd have to observe the cultural practices now that I'm older. It may just have been because I was much younger. I'm not positive.

But, regardless of that detail, it seems rather confusing to me where to draw the lines of societal boundaries. Those who know me know that I'm just friendly. Guys who usually don't hug other friends, I'll go up to them and hug them. It's not uncommon for me.

Coincidentally, a guy friend just asked me to play tennis too. Should I take that as a approach and run away homophobically? (haha...Is that a word?) I guess there's a fine line that each of us draws and redraws throughout life. Whenever meeting new people, should I approach them conservatively and in a more reserved manner until I see where their social lines are drawn? Or, should I be open in sharing my own social comfort levels with others, regardless of first observing theirs? If the former, what if they're doing the same...wouldn't it just result in social conservatism throughout?

Eh...just some random thoughts of the day. Please excuse my poorly worded bantering. It's tough for me to change...so, I think I'll just continue to be the way I am.

About a year and a few months ago, I started riding. I always wanted to ride since I could remember, but for one reason or another, I just never pulled the trigger, got the motorcycle and the license. The reasons ranged from parental disapproval, lack of funds, to an ultimatum from a girl that I was dating (the relationship didn't last much longer after that...it was the principle and not the want to get the motorcycle, itself). What does any of this have to do with the subject line?

Well, since getting the motorcycle, as survival mechanisms would have it, I have become a lot more attuned to the indications of life-threatening driving behavīor -- well, life threatening to me, on the motorcycle, at least. I notice things like sleepy drivers, cell-phone drivers, drunk drivers ...probably a whole lot of others that I could name given more time. I'm always amazed (and fearful) of those who feel skilled enough to put on mascara while driving at highway/freeway speeds, one eye supposedly on the road, the other on the mirror behind the visor.

I work in San Francisco...downtown. So, inevitably, I come across a taxi cab driver or two...or ten or twenty...in any given day. They are, by far, the most consistently in a hurry, get-out-of-my-way, I-own-this-road types of drivers. The close second, to my surprise, are Prius drivers.

Correlation does not imply causation...My uncle drives a Prius and I know he's a very safe driver. He happens to also to own a Porsche 911 Turbo, AWD, which he drives also very safely, but at much higher speeds -- I guess that would imply safe driving speeds is partially a function of the car that you're driving. Anyhow, I digress...

Any hypothesis on why the Prius drivers (I should classify this a little more)...the Prius drivers who commute from the San Francisco East Bay into San Francisco...on average, drive a little more recklessly than other drivers? My initial thought is the feeling of entitlement.

Nothing against any driver out there...I just have become more aware of Prius drivers because of a few too many near misses (with other cars, not with me thankfully) that I've personally observed.

Back to work...