The Agrinautica

   On Wednesday you may recall I went on an epic quest into San Francisco to interview for diplomatic security job. I left here at 7:30am via intercampus shuttle to Berkeley. Arriving in Berkeley around 8:40, I had four hours until my interview at 1pm. I set about trying to call anyone I knew in the area.
   My best friend from high school, Alberto, who lives in SF, appeared to reject my call. I haven't gotten through to him in four years. I found out my friend Mara wasn't able to get the day off work, Russel Renzas was busy studying for a final, and David Allweiss had died the night before.
   He had been a high school classmate of mine. He would have been 23 next Thursday. He was married. Apparently he died of leukemia he didn't know he had -- He was fine until he got a cold earlier in the week. He went to bed, his wife noticed he had very shallow breathing at some point and tried unsuccessfully to wake him, called 911. He died a day or two later in the hospital. He never knew what happened. d= .Requiescat in pace.

   I spent most of the morning at the International House Cafe in Berkeley. Finally I barted it under the bay over to SF to go find my interview. It turned out to be at this very modest looking hotel across from the freemason temple.
   They swore me to secrecy on the content of the interviewing process, I am forbidden from duplicating, reproducing, causing to be reproduced, attempting to reproduce, or a number of other synonyms, the content. Anyway, the process is that there are four different levels of screening one must pass through, and after each one a number of applicants are voted off the island discarded. I made it to the third level, a one on one interview with a special agent. I'm not sure what the odds of that are but he assured me very few people make it that far. Unfortunately I didn't make it to the fourth level to fight the boss monster though.
   They said that persons applying for the second time get considered more seriously, which means two things (A) I can console myself that I was possibly beaten by someone who was simply on their second attempt, (B) I will stand an even better chance if I apply again. Applications are accepted no more than once a year though.
   Though I didn't get the job, I got a lot further than I thought I would, seeing as I originally didn't expect to get past the first screening. So I feel pretty good about the whole thing.

   The only redeeming quality of San Francisco I think is that they actually have bins full of The Onion (in print!). Then I rode the bart back to Berkeley and read my copy of the Onion as I tried not to get scammed by the guy who was tricking people into betting on his card tricks. In particular, I liked the Onion article titled Activist Judge Cancels Christmas.

   Back in Berkeley, I found the student government offices and set off to find evidence of Chief Justice Gregg's court. On the plus side, their court was listed as actually having a room, #114, on the minus side, room 114 did not appear to exist. I did get to meet the president and chief of staff of the ASUCB.
   After this I went for a hot dog at that mecca of weiners, Top Dog, and walked down Telegraph for the sake of doing so. Bought Kristy a rose from the vender I bought her one from the day I asked her out.
   Police cars in Berkeley do not say "911" on the side. No, they say "berkeley.police.edu". So if you have an emergency, you best be near the internet. I thought about taking a picture but didn't quite have the enthusiasm for it.
   Then I realized I'd lost my intercampus shuttle ticket back to Davis. I think it was with the packet of papers I gave to diplomatic security. You can't buy tickets at the door to the intercampus shuttle either.
   I thought I was gonna die. I was tired and just wanted to go home, and without a ticket my only hope was that the driver took pity on me.
   Fortunately, another passenger had an extra ticket and I was saved. The end.


Benjamin Stevenson, Psychiatrist
   I was telling my flatmate Ben the story of The Girl That Had A Boyfriend earlier. After he responded with an in-depth analysis of why she was probably acting the way she was I said "wow you sound like a psychiatrist." To which he responded "I AM a psychiatrist! Well, as of Sunday." He's graduating tomorrow in psych-bio or something. Craziness.

Picture of the Day

Benjamin Stevenson