when I look down, I miss all the good stuff

Often, I am accused of barreling into situations without knowing exactly what I am getting into. A good example of this- yesterday I had an appointment from 4:30-6:30 and then class from 6:30-9:30. This would be the interlude where I ream everyone who claims they can get from one part of town to another in less than twenty minutes. Getting from Pacific Heights to SOMA took twenty minutes, and that included me violating several traffic laws. While I am ranting about the traffic, let me also add this: it has been raining for a month, San Franciscans. You can learn to drive in this sh*t by now, for crikey's sake.

Anyway, I will admit that, at times, my tendency to dive in without knowing where I am heading is not so wise. Other times, though, it is the only way to know for certain if I am moving in the right direction. So (bear with me here) the guiding principles of dendritic cells tickle me.

Immature dendritic cells are just like babies in some ways. Indiscriminately, they wander about taking in random things they encounter. Like small children, they take a taste of this and that. And, relying on their innate instinct, they ingest the things that they like, and spit out the things that they don't. When they spit these things out, they are actually signalling that they have come upon some foreign substance. Other immune cells come along and go medieval on the alien invader. Nobody puts baby in a corner, after all.

Dendritic cells do not know to head in the direction of something good or bad for them. They are going along on their merry way, sampling their external environment without pause to determine whether their path is safe or not. In so many ways, I do not follow such principles. I plot a course, plan the steps, have a final destination. But I recognize the element of the unknown. If you put on blinders and remain steadfast and focused on a course, you might miss so many signs along the way. You see, I believe in signs.

This is one of the many millions of reasons I could never really be brilliant. To really be brilliant, you need to be single-minded, whereas I more closely resemble Sybil on most days. I want to get where I am headed, but I want to absorb what is around me at the same time. I want to inhale this San Francisco air and separate the fragrance from the urine. I want to be here, because here is pretty lovely most days.

In other news, I talked someone into quitting on Friday, and I talked someone out of taking a job in my group last week. I am really on a roll.