On February 13th, 1997 I was wandering the glossy plastic corridors of San Jose’s Valley Fair. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I knew that I’d know it when I found it.

Emily and I had known each other for a little over a year and we’d been living together, baby nineteen-year-olds, since August. This was our first Valentine’s Day as a serious couple, the previous one having passed just as we were getting to know each other in an IRC chatroom. (This was before Twitter, when you had to go into a virtual room on a server to type inane things and song lyrics to strangers instead of just opening TweetDeck. It was way cooler.) This was our first gift-giving Valentine’s Day.

So, being nineteen the obvious, most sensible place to look for a gift for my love was the mall. Maybe I could get her some bath crap and an Orange Julius. Maybe she would like a Victoria Secret bra and some terrible grass-smelling perfume from The Gap.

Or….what’s that shiny place? The Sharper Image?

There was a life-sized Yoda facing off against Darth Vader and there was a replica lightsaber and….too many cool things to list off in that store. It was 1997, the year of Lucas’ Special Editions of the Original Trilogy, so Star Wars merchandise was all over the place in anticipation of the re-release of the films in Spring.

What to buy? What could I afford? I told myself not to spend more than $20, being a minimum wage employee and having already been through a Christmas and birthday. Everything jumped out at me so much that nothing did. But then my eyes alit upon a glass case containing objects with pieces of paper with words like “authenticity” and “numbered”.

I quickly paid for my small, but awesome, package and hustled out of the store. I picked up some other things, things I can’t even recall anymore, it’s been so long. But my prize, that I remember.

I could barely contain myself, aching to show Emily and to have her agree with me that yes, it was pretty cool, and special. When she arrived home from work I sprang it on her immediately.

Her reaction, as I recall, can most charitably be characterized as nonplussed. It can most accurately be characterized as pissed.

I can’t remember if we talked about The Rule right then and there, or if we waited until after Emily came back from a sudden trip out the door, and down from a rage-cloud.

The gist of the one-sided discussion, though, was something like “Yes, yes, I do think that limited edition, numbered copy of the Star Wars soundtrack arranged in film order rather than recording order is very very cool. Yes, I am amazed that you just so happened to come across it at the mall and, on the spur of the moment, decide to buy it for yourself while you were out shopping for me for Valentine’s Day. And yes, you are in the goddamned dog house. Because that spur of the moment, random awesome purchase you made precisely duplicates the considered, deliberate, thoughtful purchase I made for you weeks ago. So, happy Valentine’s Day: here’s a Matt Groening cartoon book. Enjoy your CDs.”

And so, The Rule: Thou Shalt Not Buy Things For Thyself For A Period Of One Month Prior To A Gift-Giving Holiday. Dumbass.

I did love that soundtrack though. It would have been a great gift. I think Emily received, from me, some kind of grassy-smelling perfume from The Gap. Neither she nor I remember.

I think I’m better at this stuff now. Now we don’t do gifts for Valentine’s Day. Star Wars CDs for everyone!

Our intrepid duo traveled north today, across the Golden Gate Bridge.

They put the sun at their backs and wound along the cliffs of Highway 1 toward Stinson Beach.

Slight cloud coverage in the late morning promised to burn off by the afternoon, though rain was in the forecast for the day, as it always seems to be of late. But our explorers were not deterred.

Erin the Dauntless began the ascent of Mount Tamalpais by crossing the first of many wooden bridges along the Matt Davis Trail. Who knows when these bridges were last trodden by tramping toddlers?

Soon our Heliotrope Heroine began outpacing her retinue, and marched off into the green heights.

A brief pause in front of the cascading creek was all the Pig-Tailed Pioneer would permit before she was off again.

Cliffs dropping off sharply worried the Denim Daredevil not at all. Had her father been there he might have yelled “Away from the edge please!!” more than once, each time a shade more frantic.

But the pater familias was down at basecamp trying to fend off Grabby McGrabbersons, the skepper* of french fries from plates not his own.

And so Erin Burns of the Menlo Park Burnses scaled Mount Tamalais alone, happily. Her companions were the rocks and the trees, and the birds in the sky.

More bridges were crossed, and stairs climbed.

Erin climbed all the way to Table Rock. She would like to rename it “skerger”, because that’s what she calls everything. Except for the things that are “skeegoo”.

She returned to basecamp to regale her brother and father (and the waitress at the Sand Dollar restaurant) with tales of her adventures. “I saw a goat! An’ four mooses! And now we goin’ to Disneyland!” They weren’t sure how much credit to give these reports.

The day ended much as it began, with a winding drive along the 1.

And the rain held off until sunset, when the adventurers were minutes from the warm, dry comfort of home.

You should have been there.

(Editor’s Note: No pictures were taken by the driver of the vehicle as it was underway. Erin was driving, and she doesn’t know how to work the camera.) 

*to skep: verb. 1. to covet the possessions, primarily food, of another. 2. to steal, grabbily. See also “skepper” (one who skeps) and “skepful” (the look on a skepper’s face while he is skepping).

I went to the woods. Every day I had with the kids after the New Year I took them out hiking somewhere.

That was the first week of January. Then it rained. And rained. And rained.

For nearly a month now every weekend or day that I don’t normally have to be on campus has been either genuinely rainy or threatening to do so. The hiking was at an end before it really began.

But I have an addictive personality; I got a bit obsessed with all the hiking and climbing, and seeing Erin handle herself on steep hills and long walks and seeing Adrian enjoying his rides. Frustrated obsession means not being able to think about doing anything else on those rainy days (except for a trip to the Jelly Belly Factory one Monday afternoon in the rain). And so, nothing gets done.

It is nearly a month now since our last hike, and the forecast for tomorrow: rain.

I remembered the old Nintendo games I used to play. And I remembered that there are Nintendo emulators out there that will allow you to play classic console games on your computer. So Glass Joe has suffered my wrath and I’ve totally retrieved the TriForce and Jason took a torch to the face when he went after the kids in the cabin by the lake and Dr. Wily was destroyed by my amazing Bubble-Power attack and Mario took to the skies with his raccoon tail.

The kids. My kids. Erin would ask if we were going hiking whenever we were brave enough to go outside. We found a place called The Jungle in San Jose/Santa Clara that provides some amusement for kids: the indoor climbing structure has an arcade sitting on the top level, and giant twisty slides, and ball pits. No hiking for me, but at least Erin was getting exercise.

Adrian, sweet boy, spent two weeks at home with me. He caught a viral infection, a nasty RSV strain going around, which led to congestion, and bronchialitis. Then, being more than a bit asthmatic, his oxygen level dropped low enough that we spent two nights in the hospital until he could be treated with steroids and albuterol at home. Of course, since along with the virus he developed an ear infection he refused to eat once we got home and we nearly had to bring him back to the hospital to stick an iv in him to keep him hydrated. We switched his anti-biotic and his ear began to clear up on Monday.

Unluckily, Erin also developed an ear infection over the weekend, and hers came on so suddenly that she suffered a small rupture of her eardrum as a pressure relief. She was not happy about it. It appears healed now, and she isn’t complaining anymore. But Jesus.

So, after beginning the year on a mountain high we spent a couple of weeks dealing with rain and cold weather, then everyone got sick.

Oh, and the house we’ve been remodeling for longer than Erin has been alive passed its final inspection today. We gave notice on our apartment, which was “temporary” in 2005 and has now been the place I’ve lived the longest for any stretch of my life, and we will be out by the end of the month.

Do you know what 2010 has been so far? The year I did no work on my dissertation. Blame the hiking, the video games, the sick kids, the remodel, the packing.

But I can’t blame this blog or Twitter now, can I?