Rowing out of a Trough

From the quality and frequency of my posts, you can conclude that I’m in the middle of one of those cyclical creative troughs we all go through, when time, energy, initiative, and intellect are sapped down into a whirlpool of idleness and something bordering on, but not quite, ennui. I guess writing about it is the first step to beating it. That, and removing Fox’s daily 2-episode Simpsons from the VCR timer. And turning off the TV.

Speaking of troughs, Capital Weather is predicting one for next week, but no snow. Pity; by this time last year it had started snowing in DC, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be seeing any for December.

Ashes Upstairs

I took a flashlight to the roof deck level of the stairwell, and sure enough, there were cigarette ashes on the floor, and some of the smell was still in the air. I don’t see a smoke detector in the immediate vicinity, but it’s a good bet that enough smoke wafted down to set off the alarms.

Photo taken with a Canon Powershot A400.

False Alarm Again Again

Again, the fire alarm went off. There was much milling in the hallways, and I stuck my head out the door to ask one of my neighbors, “Is this another false alarm?”

“There’s smoke in the stairwell, coming from the top floor,” she said, hurriedly heading downstairs.

I called 911, informed the local Fire Department — right across the road, fortunately — of the situation, and accompanied other neighbors down the elevator to the bottom floor, where three firetrucks had already dispensed their cargo of fire marshals in full gear. Then, acting on some inexplicably stupid sense of responsibility, I got back in the elevator and rode it all the way up to the top floor to see what was going on.

Firemen were milling about there, going from door to door, asking if there was any fire. There was no smell of smoke. I approached them, told them I’d made the call, and what I’d been told about the smoke smell — and received some rather stern, annoyed looks.

As expected, it was yet another false alarm. The smoke that had been smelled in the stairwell had merely been a thin wisp, and the firemen had found nothing. Heading back down, we — I and the firemen — concluded that some idiot had likely been smoking in the stairwell and set off the smoke detectors. Whoever that was, he got most of the building evacuated out onto a cold, rainy sidewalk. And now the local fire station is miffed at me, Mr. Trigger Happy Emergency Caller. That’s the last time I call 911 for a fire alarm in this apartment building.

Yellow Line Sunset

Yellow Line Sunset

Sunset seen from the Yellow Line crossing into Virginia. The sun sets so early now.

Pighead

Pighead

Head of a roasted pig at last night’s Ateneo Alumni DC Christmas party. Yum.

Bilin at Pasalubong

Bilin: stuff your Filipino family and friends ask you to buy for them while you’re abroad. Also see pasalubong: things you bring home from a trip for friends or family. (They pay for bilin, but pasalubongs are free.)

Update: one more term I forgot — Padala: stuff to deliver from one member of the family abroad to another member of the family at home.

Typhoon Yoyong (Nanmadol)

Snippets from an instant message from Mom yesterday:

[09:12] Here’s an addition to the bilin* list: KRISPY KREME DOUGHNUTS!!!

[09:12] We are expecting a super typhoon tonight.

The typhoon hit, as so many typhoons have before. I’ve never lived in a nipa hut — not for extended periods or through a typhoon, anyway. To us upper-class Filipinos living within the walls of gated subdivisions, typhoons just meant cancelled classes, a power outage, and wind and rain rattling the windows while we sat inside, eating arroz caldo and watching cartoons. (Except, perhaps, for that one time a Signal No. 3 storm flooded our swimming pool and had six year old me praying to the Mary statues at the family altar that the rising water would not flood our home and drown us all. I knew nothing about drainage and plumbing.) Within a day or two, things would be back to normal, and the scenes of destruction and loss would never touch us except as images from the nightly news.

From BBC, Talking Points on Typhoon Nanmadol/Yoyong, pictures, and more pictures. From Sassy Lawyer, her day with Typhoon Yoyong.

Tomato Notice

Tomato Notice

Tomato ingredients served only on request.