That’s because of the media blackout on the subject.

In the US it started in New York: occupywallst.org. Since those protests started (Two weeks ago!) many other US cities have started their own protests. Boston’s protest starts today.
Occupy Boston starts just outside of South Station, at Dewey Square, aka the Green way. We will be protesting peacefully against the richest 1%, who control everything. We are the 99%. Expect us.

You don’t speak your ‘computer’ (And why should you? That’s why I’m here, and why you’re calling me.) and neither does your admin. It’s another language and it sounds like jibberish to the both of you. If you do not understand it, you will not be able to communicate it clearly. Your admin will make it even less clear in her own way. Now it’s indecipherable, and that’s before s/he tries to talk to Balasubramanya, who’s grasp of English is questionable.

Imagine it this way: you give your admin a signed blank check and say “make this out to John Doe for $200.” Now we play the telephone game. S/he hands the check to another admin and relays the message. After 3 more hands you’re bankrupt. And admins are supposed to understand checks.

You want me to just send someone. The company does not justify the cost of having a highly trained professional dispatched to walk up and plug your computer in. That’ll be $300, please. You think I’m exaggerating. Unless you’re the CEO, unless you have a hottub in your private jet with a built-in caviar cooler, the answer is no.

Is there anything else I can help you with today?

Oh, and security would like to have a word with you about why your admin knows your password. Have a nice day.

Then today, while sitting at my desk, I felt trapped. The in-house cafeteria is overpriced and everything else seems far away….. Then I realized: “WAIT A MINUTE! I have a bicycle, I have independence!” So I biked around until I found a place that looked nice. Yay, choices!

Yes! I biked to work yesterday and today, but tomorrow Boston is expecting rain. Where is that fender? Where is my umbrella, for that matter?

No, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’s good to be back, regardless.

I wish to congratulate all of my students for participating, even those who didn’t win trophies. I am so proud of you!

The black belts were divided into age groups, and empty hands vs weapon forms.

The weapon forms were amazing to watch. There were swords, there were staves, and a spattering of other things. One woman had a form with a metal fan and a knife. I kept hearing about another girl who had a remarkable staff form, that she flowed beautifully. She was maybe 14.

My division finally started, late in the day, when many competitors and guests had left. Most of my studio stuck around for me, however, and I am grateful.

I approached the judges with a confident walk, and deep bows. I had a strong and clear voice, though I felt like it was shaking. When the judges granted me permission to start, I ran Short form 3, an empty handed form, with every bit ferocity I could muster. I brought the loudest form of the day, by far, but it wasn’t just about yelling: I had good form: power, range of motion, energy! When my form was complete, I put the breaks on full and ran my salutation calmly, as if nothing had happened.
The judges put me in first place for my division, and I proudly accepted my first trophy of the day: first place in forms

Soon there was sparring, and I watched in dismay while two teammates lost bouts I felt they should have won. Defeating my opponent, I took my second trophy: first place in sparring.

Immediately I was to face a very intimidating opponent for grand champion, sparring. This man was fast and skilled. His opponent never scored a point. When we fought, I landed some points, but he won. I’m not upset to lose to a more skilled opponent, he fought very well, and went home with the grand champion sparring trophy.

Next was the most exciting competition of the day: Grand champion forms.
My history with forms is simple: I was a hyperactive child with no peace of mind. Forms gave me peace, for that I am eternally grateful. For this reason, I give back by teaching. I can never repay fully this tremendous gift. Forms are my peace, and thus, they are so, so important to me.

The first competitor had a strong voice, and a strong form. I watched his arms shake with strain as he started, I watched his mechanics and knew he could win this tournament. Next up, the remarkable staff girl, above, who was graceful and skilled. She was beautiful to watch, and I knew her form could win, too. After the staff form was another remarkable form: metal fan and knife. This form was exotic and fascinating, another strong form! The next lady was from an older division, but she was by no means weak. She had a toughness that shone through. I would not mess with her! My last teammate was called up, and she ran her form which was very long and tiresome, but she never looked tired, she made it look easy. She had won Grand Champion in women’s sparring. I was the last to go up, after all these amazing forms. I was not scared, or worried, but I knew that there was no room for error. I was going to do my best and I’d be happy with whatever happened. I was proud to even compete with these excellent martial artists.

Again I bowed deeply, respectfully, and addressed the judges with a clear and strong voice. This time I wasn’t shaking. I stepped back and took two breaths. My salutation was smooth and calm, and ended with a snap as I hit my attention stance. Then…
I exploded.
I gave that form everything I was made of. All my strength, all my emotions, all my heart. I was fast, but I didn’t rush. Each move took its time, and each move had full travel (read: power). Again, at the end I finished with my salutation, this time sharper than before, snapped closed and bowed out. The audience was applauding loudly. The judges told us to wait while they made a decision.

After a few moments, the judges called us all back out, and we stood lined up while the head judge stepped forward with a large trophy. “The Grand Champion of Forms goes to…”

me.

He called my name and held the trophy in my direction. I started feeling emotional as I walked up and took the trophy, shook his hand. I thanked the judges, then turned around and told my competitors how honored I was to compete with them, that they had excellent and remarkable forms. I turned around to a swarm of students rushing to me, and held my trophy up with one arm as they surrounded me and congratulated me. I was receiving hugs for ever, it was like something out of a movie ending. I thanked a hundred supporters, then called my mom.

One of the judges asked me if I wanted to know how narrow the margin was. Of course I did! I was expecting a thousandth of a point. I was expecting it to be close.

It was unanimous(!!). Every single judge picked me as the winner. There were seven judges!

The studio was closed when I called, so I left a voicemail and thanked my teachers.

I cannot even express how important this is to me. I am so proud.

–

I’ve driven this highway, and by far the coolest part is the river that runs along it. Not that the view is anything to turn your nose up at. I loved them, but beyond that I must say dunking in the river was key. It was a hot day: 93ºF! The water was frigid, which is to say perfect.

The ride I did on Sunday didn’t quite get me to the top. The actual top was at exactly 12 miles, and getting there was brutal. Signs along the way informed me that the grade was 9%, and I climbed like it was my job. I passed a group of cyclists before I got there then went over the edge!

I didn’t even slow down first, I just took the descent as I was. I was at 35mph without pedaling, 40 with a little pushing, and maxed out at 44. From there, the last 18 miles were a cakewalk. It was all 20+mph, coasting. Conway popped up before I knew it, and taking a break seemed silly. After half a sandwich, I got back on the bike and started the longest most painful climb of my life.

Never before have I stopped during a climb take a breather. Running out of water at mile 40 didn’t help. Everything was slow until about mile 50, when the 9% grade came back to haunt me. Mile after unending mile of it. I stopped more than 3 times, and wanted to give up so so much, but I never took a step. Not a single step! I biked the whole thing. When this sign showed up, not 500 feet away, I could hardly believe it.

Everything was literally downhill from here.

I stopped once more for a refreshing dip in the river before the day was done. 66 miles. 2500ft climbing. 9% grade. Great views and cool water. What a win!

I climbed a tree.

Many other beautiful things happened that weekend:

Private tub at the Inman Oasis followed by dinner with dear friends.

Art and artists in Rockport MA.

Halibut Point: A curious young boy learns what a cello is, and his family clapped after I played.

See that green arrow?  I sat there overlooking the quarry during sunset and played my cello.  I suppose I may be a bit of a romantic.  A little.

–

Reminder: I am still a very new cellist.  I’m recording as a progress check.

My bike, however, hates them! But I can understand that.  I’m not terribly fond of the way my front wheel digs into the ground and threatens to toss me off my bike, but for all other purposes, they’re okay by me.

Avoiding the dirt road, however lead me on a longer road.  Usually I love hills.  I think of them as a challenge and power up them.  This was not a hill, it was psychological torture.  Honestly, the thing looks flat.  You can’t tell you’re climbing except that your speed decreases persistently.  I never like this, but at the end of a ride it is particularly disheartening.

Mileage count:
day 1: 7 mi.
day 2: 9.5 mi
day 3: 8 mi

Today’s route was good: it had a long flat lead in, a bit of climbing, a bit of descending.  The humidity and temperature made my ears and toes numb but in spite of that I still enjoyed the ride.

It’s been beautiful to ride again, even if it’s only half what I used to ride daily.  Even if I’m pushing on a sprained ankle.

Wish me luck for the weekend, my friend Professor Hillary rides a mean TT and thinks anything less than 40 miles is a waste of time.  I’m DOOMED. =)