Category: UCSD

roberto’s coffee recipe

The custodians at UCSD work early and long, cleaning up whatever mess the university students leave behind. Roberto is one, and I make sure to say hello when I see him. Good man. Plays soccer on the weekends with his local team. Childhood friends, he says.

On the last week of school Roberto invited me over to the custodian’s office to share a cup of coffee. Next to the supply closet is a coffeemaker, and the rest of the custodians trust Roberto to make the coffee for them. For every cup of coffee, he adds:

  • a spoonful of sugar
  • a stick of cinnamon

Cream and sugar are commonplace, but I’ve never had cinnamon in coffee before. Tastes fantastic. I told my roommate Victor from France about how Roberto made me a cup of his special brew.

“Ah yes, he made me a cup of coffee, too!”

“stay dry” as a goodbye

Odd hearing that in San Diego. It rarely rains, and when it does, it’s usually just a bunch of overcast skies and a light drizzle. The most that ever happens is that the fabric seat on my bicycle absorbs all the rainwater, so I walk into class looking like I soiled myself.

Geoffrey and I had a conversation on a wooden bench yesterday about this (among other things). We’d both take periods of storms over constant half-assed sprinkles any day. Storms are cathartic. Light sprinkles just leave you expecting and wanting more. Maybe it’s the shared physical risk that comes from being belted with the kinds of winds that can knock over trees, or getting hit from hail the size of golf balls. Maybe it’s because the harsh weather outside makes for better reading weather, and makes for a better excuse to get cozy with one another (not that you needed an excuse, but it helps). Or maybe it’s because it just leaves for a better show.

But the weather never takes your personal preferences into consideration. Why should it?

pierre’s coffee tip

Pierre likes coffee. Me, too. But Pierre from Normandy (not sure if that’s related) says he likes to put pepper in his, especially when he has a lot of reading to do at once. Here’s how he goes about it:

  1. Pour half a cup of coffee into the mug.
  2. Sprinkle lots of crushed black pepper (just the generic ones from the grocery store) into the coffee.
  3. Pour the rest of the coffee inside.

I generally stay away from peppers in drinks, but Pierre swears by it. Works well with mint tea, too, he says.

not nancy

The basement of Geisel Library has these super-sweet headphones that you can borrow with your student I.D. — the kind that curls around your ear and makes it so that Taylor Swift can serenade you as you write your e-mails and do your homework.

I tend to go into the library during the same times, so I see the same folks behind the receptionist counter. One woman in particular has a warm smile that can brighten the entire room.

“Hi there, could I borrow some headphones?”

“Sure”, she would say. Or: “sorry, we’re out.”

“Okay, no worries.” I knew her in no other context, although I would find myself hoping to see her again whenever I borrow headphones.

Then last Friday I saw her up in the town of Del Mar; apparently we both knew the birthday boy. We had a solid conversation about what we wanted to do with our lives in the backyard. She wants to be a middle school or high school teacher, “even if they’re a handful”. I didn’t have a straight answer myself, but I said something about education or healthcare looking interesting, since I’ve found that “uhh, I don’t know” never really gives anything for the other person to build off of or respond to in conversations (even if it’s true). She gave me her beer.

This morning she recognizes me. “Wesley, right?” I’m elated that she remembers, but now I feel doubly bad for not remembering hers. Most library employees wear a name tag, but she is not wearing hers today. (Of course that would happen).  I remember everything else!! I wanted to say.

“Nancy, right?”

“It’s Haley.”

–

–

There are bigger things to worry about in the world, but it’s still embarrassing.

what happens when you’re the most clueless person in the group

Last quarter I found myself working with some incredible people. Older, disciplined, and with the skills & enthusiasm to bring their big ideas to life. They’re the kind of people you would look at and say, “yeah, they have it together.” In other words: you want to be in their group for a school project.

And I was! How exciting.

But then doubt started to settle in: I was the most junior out of the three. I had no experience. No intuition or previous exposure to the relevant subject. (Meanwhile, they both had years of research and industry experience). Intelligence and growth are not static, but I wouldn’t be able to match their expertise within a semester, let alone a year. This wasn’t pessimism speaking, just reality.

At first it felt more comfortable to put the doubt on them. Why did they ask me to join their group? They must have made a mistake in asking me.  How long will it take for them to realize that? All those questions were a way of dodging the underlying fear: that I would never measure up to their abilities, and that halfway through the semester, they would find out that I’m no good and boot me out of the group.

~

That never happened. They were both very sweet and encouraging, but I remember stressing a lot about that.

A better way to look at it:

When you are working with people who are, objectively speaking, out of your league — realize that there is still something you can offer, even if it is just a different perspective. Get three different people from the same discipline and position in life and you will have three different people offer the same solution to the problem. That’s why you’re in the mix: to put some fresh blood into the group.

Work less on judging on yourself, and work more on what you can give to the group and to other people. You’ll find that:

  1. The quality of your output will improve.
  2. The group dynamics will improve. (it’s exhausting to always have to affirm to another person that yes, they are wanted in the group, and that yes, they are doing a fine job)
  3. And you, yourself, will improve. (all that time spent judging is now spent on your growth as a human being, and on the well-being of the people you care about)

All this from a subtle change in mindset.

wrapping up the night

My roommate Victor from France tells me that his favorite moment of the night is when he finally takes off his shoes, knowing that he won’t be putting them on again until the sun comes up the next day. He tells me this as he sits on the sofa, feet on the coffee table.

I thought it would be him enjoying the late night snack (potatoes + garlic + onions) he just fried at 1 AM in the morning; perhaps it’s the combination of the two.

venturing away from the food table

@ the faculty club in UCSD, where twice a quarter they host a guest speaker or panel to talk about interesting stuff:

I hid behind the food table instead of walking up to the speaker. That usually doesn’t happen, but this guy was one of those hot shots in the design community, and the people walking up to him were also hot shots in their fields.

Or at least that was the assumption I made. They were old and had white hair.

I wasn’t hungry, but the plate gave me a chance to hold something so I wouldn’t fidget, and the food gave me a distraction, so I wouldn’t have to focus on how I was chumping out and watching the world pass on by.

Up comes a man in a green collared shirt. About thirty years older, slightly balding. He was the only other guy eating the snacks on the table.

“Hey, go ask him a question.”

I tell him I didn’t know what to say, that he’s already got enough people kissing his ass and wanting something from him. I made all sorts of rationalizations, but really I was just scared and intimidated. Here are all these professionals lining up to speak to him. Who the hell am I? What would I be able to offer?

He tells me: “You know, he’s a human being, too. And he likes being recognized and knowing that his talk made a difference. Go talk to him and make a comment about something he said.”

He offered a handshake, then left for the parking lot. To this day I have no idea who he is.

~

~

Two slices of flatbread later, I lined up. I even wrote down a question in my notebook, for when I would forget in the ten meters separating the speaker, me, and every other person wanting to speak with the speaker in-between.

But I wouldn’t need to look at the notebook. A man in a suit ushered the speaker away.

 

…

Damn!