<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:02:54.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>being and nothingness</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-5115260073413345464</id><published>2008-03-15T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T20:52:02.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mistakes</title><content type='html'>I'm not a huge fan of William Gibson's writing, but I really enjoyed the interview of him which was produced into a movie called &lt;a target="top" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0269629/"&gt;"No Maps for These Territories"&lt;/a&gt;. He said of his work, that there was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... a struggle to recognize and except that the heart is the master and the head is the servant. And that that is always the case. Except when that isn't the case, we're in deep, deep trouble. And we're often in deep, deep trouble... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target="top" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Gibson"&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/%7Ecasey/spinach/homage/gibson/William_Gibson_by_FredArmitage.jpg" height="266" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much to my chagrin and sadness, I have found myself in deep, deep trouble emotionally, by which I mean, quite unhappy.  It seems strange to think that spending time with a certain person can be considered a "mistake".  Of course, it is probably more accurate to say that it is the decision making behind spending time with that person which is the mistake.  Either way, I have fallen victim to my head and listened to my head, when I should have headed the deep warnings I felt buzzing about in my heart. Sorry for the vagueness on this point, I don't want to name names.  But I can say that it was time spent with someone whom I fell into a relationship with for all the wrong reasons.  Seriously.  Everything was wrong about this one, and I knew it the entire time yet chose to ignore the more noble path which I know would have spared me the suffering I ended up experiencing.  But not all is lost (one would hope!), and I chalk this up to another of my &lt;a target="top" href="http://www.amazon.com/Gandhi-Autobiography-Story-Experiments-Truth/dp/0807059099"&gt;"experiments in truth"&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target="top" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghandi"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/2c/Gandhi_studio_1931.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="80%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/%7Ecasey/spinach/homage/sartre/Jean_Paul_Sartre.jpg" align="left" border="6" /&gt; "Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth." &lt;/em&gt;-Sartre&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-5115260073413345464?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5115260073413345464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=5115260073413345464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/5115260073413345464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/5115260073413345464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2008/03/mistakes.html' title='Mistakes'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-6174983033412878856</id><published>2007-08-11T10:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T00:46:45.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures.</title><content type='html'>This summer in Chicago, for me, seems to be mostly about having adventures and getting to know more about your friends than perhaps you would have wanted to know.  And also learning much more about myself.  Loving and learning.  How nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is an interesting interplay between the details of a story and the overall narrative that these details are meant to express.  Unfortunately, although I would love to expound upon some of the adventures that I've had over the past few weeks, the details might ruin me -- and thus my stories remain forever bound to my small circle of trust except for the inevitable (hopefully minimal amount of) diffusion and mangling of details that takes place even among closest friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-6174983033412878856?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/6174983033412878856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=6174983033412878856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/6174983033412878856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/6174983033412878856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2007/08/adventures.html' title='Adventures.'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-694867847709292846</id><published>2007-07-25T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T21:13:38.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicago.</title><content type='html'>Two years later.  Here I am in Chicago. Great city. 31 years old, and no idea what I'm doing with my life.  I want to be free, but I have no idea how.  Got my PhD a few months ago (Nov.), so I have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_chicago/thmb_chicago004.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I really want to do is direct a movie.  Why?  I think it is because I feel very passionate about the types of ideas that films convey.  More so than the concepts conveyed in astrophysical journals.  In the process of film making there is an amazing sense of creation, of bringing to life a world that would never have existed otherwise, and this captivates my imagination.  Film is a vehicle of expression that I desperately want to become fluent in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest joy I receive from my present work (astrophysics research) is career advancement and giving talks on my work. However, I do find working with certain scientists (e.g., my phd advisor David Arnett) incredibly inspiring, because they share a certain pleasure in discovery.  I really need to have this type of colleague in order to do good research.  Presently, I am not finding this type of stimulation at the U.Chicago where I am working. I find some of the projects I work on visually stimulating, however.  Here is a visualization of a supernova model from the research group that I am working with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/sne/gcd_breakout.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width=80%&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/homage/sartre/Jean_Paul_Sartre.jpg" align="left" border="6" /&gt; "Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth." &lt;/em&gt;-Sartre&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-694867847709292846?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/694867847709292846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=694867847709292846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/694867847709292846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/694867847709292846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2007/07/chicago.html' title='Chicago.'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-111839075791921902</id><published>2005-06-10T01:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T19:52:54.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tucson Nights.</title><content type='html'>Just about the only solace to be found during a Tucson summer is when the Sun finally gets tired and sinks behind the mountains....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_blog/view_east.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-111839075791921902?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/111839075791921902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=111839075791921902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111839075791921902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111839075791921902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2005/06/tucson-nights.html' title='Tucson Nights.'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-111812967244609493</id><published>2005-06-07T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T19:53:18.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris.</title><content type='html'>I am very excited my good friend from England might be able to visit me while I'm in Paris. He has just returned to England from some adventures in New Zealand, including jumping off a bridge:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_blog/bungy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm going to try to call ивелина now. довиждане!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-111812967244609493?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/111812967244609493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=111812967244609493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111812967244609493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111812967244609493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2005/06/paris.html' title='Paris.'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-111752486112414543</id><published>2005-05-31T00:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T19:55:24.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Friday.</title><content type='html'>I finally made it over to SF on the &lt;a href="http://bart.gov/" target="top"&gt;BART&lt;/a&gt;. I got off on the &lt;a href="http://www.embarcaderocenter.com/ec/about/history.html" target="top"&gt;Embarcadero&lt;/a&gt; stop, and began walking up towards &lt;a href="http://www.fishermanswharf.org/" target="top"&gt;Fisherman's Wharf&lt;/a&gt;, where my family was. On the way I came across this cool water sculpture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/water_sculpture.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and then I came across this interesting sculpture of two faces:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/faces.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunt picked me up and took me the rest of the wat to Fisherman's Wharf where my cousin was selling &lt;a href="http://www.yak.net/xenocide/marcia/" target="top"&gt;jewelry&lt;/a&gt; that he and my aunt had made. I stopped by for a minutes to get a photo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/jewelry.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to head over to the Exploratorium grounds. On the way we saw a llama (strange city):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/llama_2frame.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up visiting the grounds of the &lt;a href="http://www.exploratorium.edu/" target="top"&gt;Exploratorium&lt;/a&gt; museum.  This is the where the &lt;a href="http://www.sanfranciscomemories.com/ppie/index.html" target="top"&gt;1915 Worlds Fair&lt;/a&gt; was held. What is left is the dome that housed the &lt;em&gt;Palace of Fine Arts&lt;/em&gt;, as well as a few collanades. Here's a photo of the main dome (which reminds me of &lt;a href="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/sw_naboo.jpg" target="top"&gt;Naboo&lt;/a&gt; as seen in Star Wars Episode I):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/pfa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pretty heron that was bathing in the lake:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/heron.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After walking around the grounds for a while we met up with my cousin and some of his friends at &lt;a href="http://www.digitalcity.com/sanfrancisco/entertainment/venue.adp?sbid=121713" target="top"&gt;Kennedy's&lt;/a&gt;, the Irish pub and Curry House, where they were serving $2 Guinness. I ended up drinking 3 Guinness instead of having dinner. My aunt and my mother had dinner at &lt;a href="http://www.thestinkingrose.com/sf/sf.htm" target="top"&gt;The Stinking Rose&lt;/a&gt;, a restaurant specializing in garlic cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, my friend Yeliang picked me up from my Aunt's house and we headed out to a dance club with a friend he met on the internet. We ended up finding a club in the downtown area playing techno, and the cover was only $10! We danced away until about 2am, and then drearily drove his friend home to Fremont, which is about 45mins south of SF.  Yeliang was so tired on the way home from Fremont that he kept swerving into other lanes.  Finally made it home to Berekely around 3:30am.  A sleeping bag on a concrete floor never felt so good before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-111752486112414543?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/111752486112414543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=111752486112414543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111752486112414543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111752486112414543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2005/05/more-friday.html' title='More Friday.'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-111722924203631542</id><published>2005-05-27T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T20:00:02.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ugly Morning.</title><content type='html'>Good morning... I've been trying to get out of my friends apartment so that I can visit family again today in downtown SF. Here is a panoramic image of my friends huge apartment in Berkeley (that sleeping bag at the end of the bed is where I am staying)... it had to be made as a panoramic because, in this case, it is so &lt;em&gt;small&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/yeliang_room_stiched_small.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With any luck (sorry, I mean &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt;, Sartre) I'll get showered and get the hell out of here in the next hour... I need some sun badly. 'Till later, ciao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="80%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/homage/sartre/Jean_Paul_Sartre.jpg" align="left" border="6" /&gt; "Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth." &lt;/em&gt;-Sartre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="80%"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-111722924203631542?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/111722924203631542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=111722924203631542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111722924203631542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111722924203631542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2005/05/ugly-morning.html' title='An Ugly Morning.'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13212682.post-111718753496238035</id><published>2005-05-27T02:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T20:00:22.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anything?</title><content type='html'>Hello blogspace (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and hello Iva dear&lt;/span&gt;). Today (thur.), I spent some time in downtown San Francisco with my mother, my aunt and my cousin. Hanging out with family was very relaxing and fun. We ate some nice Thai food for lunch, browsed the &lt;a href="http://www.sfmoma.org/" target="top"&gt;SFMOMA&lt;/a&gt; gift shop, and shopped around the &lt;a href="http://www.metreon.com/" target="top"&gt;Metreon&lt;/a&gt; shopping center/movie theatre complex. Here is a pretty garden on the grounds outside the center:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/metreon_garden.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a photo of the cool statue that greated us when we arrived at the Metreon. This is my mother, my aunt Marcia, my cousin Max shaking hands with him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/mom_marcia_max.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the vandals that we are, we did this to the statue...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/photo/src_sanfran2005/statue_vandals.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://imdb.com/name/nm0000576/" target="top"&gt;Sean Penn&lt;/a&gt; was in line in front of us at the Metreon theatre where we saw Star Wars Episode III. This is my first celebrity spotting. (And Star Wars III was as good the second viewing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will conclude this blog with a cool internet find: Check out &lt;a href="http://kurtwenner.com/" target="top"&gt;http://kurtwenner.com&lt;/a&gt; to see some &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Amazing&lt;/span&gt;!!! &lt;a href="http://www.kurtwenner.com/images/cocito.jpg" target="top"&gt;street paintings&lt;/a&gt; (recomended by aunt Marcia and my cousin Max).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Till another day, goodnight good internet people (and many kisses &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for my dear Iva&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="80%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img src="http://flash.uchicago.edu/~casey/spinach/homage/sartre/Jean_Paul_Sartre.jpg" align="left" border="6" /&gt; "Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth." &lt;/em&gt;-Sartre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="80%"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13212682-111718753496238035?l=beingandeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/111718753496238035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13212682&amp;postID=111718753496238035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111718753496238035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13212682/posts/default/111718753496238035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingandeverything.blogspot.com/2005/05/anything.html' title='Anything?'/><author><name>jps</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
