Time Has Passed

Dear Friends,

It has been a long time since I wrote. There is no excuse for such things, except that sometimes it is better to live life than to write about it. "Mais il faut choisir: vivre ou raconter" (Jean-Paul Sartre, La nausée). But tonight just strikes me as one of those nights to write things down. So, when you find a moment, settle down and read what I've been up to.

Let's start around New Year's Eve. It's as good a time as any to start. New beginnings. Expecting little, I was surprised with much more than that. A twist of fate led a woman from Philadelphia, by the name of Susan, to San Francisco over the holidays. In the way of love stories, a chance encounter has begun to spun itself into something intricate and beautiful -- like a spider spinning a web. We're sticky and the sun makes us glitter. Unlike Hollywood, however, the story doesn't unfold in the span of a couple of hours. Instead, it has been taking place over several months.

Before meeting Susan, I knew little about Philadelphia. In fact, I had only a vague notion of where it appeared on a map, and I wasn't at all sure whether it was inland or coastal. For those who have been watching my Facebook status messages, there is no Google office in Philadelphia. These trips have been for something else. I have learned that the Rocky movies were filmed there. I have learned how nice it can be to sleep in a quiet neighbourhood sometimes.

But the distance has been hard. There is no denying that. Though now I know how pricing generally works across the major hubs connecting San Francisco to Philadelphia. I have also learned that it is possible to commute from Philadelphia to San Francisco on a Monday morning -- though it makes for a very long day. It's possible to fly red eye Friday night, and connect back on a commuter flight Monday morning. When this year's mileage is tallied, it seems likely that I'm going to end up with the ability to jump airport lines and such like.

Not that Philadelphia has been my only destination. In May, I found myself in New York City for a fair chunk of time. I had a good opportunity to visit with Jane in Manhattan. I'm glad to have had the opportunity, as flights to Canada are not nearly as inexpensive nor as convenient as those south of the border. I enjoyed hearing about Jane's life on the moors of New Brunswick.

New York City itself was a bit shocking after spending such a long time in San Francisco. I flew a red eye out Thursday night, and found myself at Penn Station during rush hour on a Friday morning. No place to stand. Jostled constantly. Little sleep. I wanted to go home. Manhattan has four times the population density as San Francisco, and it gets even higher right around rush hour. Not that New York is all bad. There are moments to be caught here and there. Dance parades through the city. Musical theatre....

... The Brandy Library. This was quite the experience. For those not in the know, after spending most of my life avoiding alcohol rather completely, Google has driven me to drink. There is a rather large scotch culture at Google, and there is no better place to experience that kind of culture than at The Brandy Library in Manhattan. Imagine stepping into what looks like a slightly large drawing room -- one that you would see in a Hollywood movie when the characters are mixing with old money. Along the walls are book shelves -- floor to ceiling. However, these shelves don't carry books. Instead, the walls are filled with the rarest and most exceptional bottles of fine liquour that you will have the pleasure of seeing. So, if you're hankering for a 1960-something bottle of scotch, this may be the place for you.

At one moment, I almost felt like Manhattan could be a home. It was one night after work. A co-worker had loaned me a bike for the week, and I was heading home -- to a corporate apartment on the upper west side. I followed the bike path up the Hudson River while the sun set over New Jersey. Perfect.

But it was also interesting to notice other differences. The NY demeanour, for example, is much different. Gruff. Cold. Harsh. Abrupt. Tense. Much different from warm SF smiles, and relaxed SF attitudes. I saw nothing like Mission-Dolores Park while hanging out in Manhattan, and it really comes as no surprise to me. I also discovered how comfortable I've become with the perpetually mild climate of San Francisco. NY was hot and humid -- not even as hot as it can get. I found it uncomfortable, and was longing for the 60 degree weather that prevails in San Francisco most of the year.

Work has been good, though this week has been quite long and stressful. A few emergencies on Wednesday made for a 16 hour day. (Maybe it's shallow, but it makes me proud to help keep something like Google running smoothly and getting better every day.) After such an intense day, today I really just hung out, chatted with people and played pool. Fair's fair, after all. My team has grown, and I'm travelling a little bit. Next week, I get to see Pittsburgh. I'm not sure what to expect. Last week I found it on a map. It is inland. :)

All of this travel reminds me a little of my ex-wife, Ania. Old endings. And that's the other big news. My divorce with Ania is now final. Or, at the very least, there is a piece of paper from the British courts granting a divorce. (Ania lives in London now.) It wouldn't surprise me, however, if some government or lawyer somewhere wants us to file another piece of paper, and charge us money for it. But, that somewhat ends an era. There was a party. Tequila was served. Stories were told. I met Ania for the very first time December 1995.

I hope all your lives are full of endings and beginnings, like mine. It's time for me to dig into "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga....

Love,

Doug.

P.S. I would recommend "Autumn" by Louderbach (album) or "Skokkian" by Louis Armstrong (song).