Memories of Pittsburgh

Pittsburgh University missed connection

Tanya, In the Philippines we have a saying "Kung hindi ukol, hindi bubukol". Roughly translated, "If she's not for you, nothing you do will do...." You will always be the lost girl looking for the shuttle stop to go up the hill. I tried many times to send you a message via gmail but for some reason, my mail kept bouncing. Exasperated, I called Pitt's I.T. and waited an hour for help. They confirmed that TSWXX@Pitt.edu was a valid email belonging to Tanya. Against my best judgment and in sheer despearation, I tried to use my work email to reach out to ask for your phone number, but never got a reply. I have no one to blame but myself. My only relief is knowing that I did all I could to reach out to a weird albeit intelligent 5th-year Chemistry girl I met in Pittsburg in front of the Carnegie Melon campus. I will never find out why she was carrying a huge empty breakfast mug with a post-it note showing Cathy Zander's email. It saddens me to know that in all likelihood you will forever be a happy memory destined to be forgotten. I used to believe in fate, in serendipity, in destiny; but I got too worn, too weary, and too burdened by heartache and broken dreams. It would have been nice to have known you, but I must bid you goodbye lest I go crazy. If you ever change your mind call or text me. I never open or use this yahoo email. Goodbye and farewell sweet little lost girl, I wish you all the best. Sincerely, Jake 708655xxxxx jakecastle@xxxx.com

10-06-22 Dearest Princess,   I write with no expectations for a reply. Sad, but true.   When my grandmother Remedios died a few years back I was tasked with fetching the priest from St. Peter's Catholic Church along Madison St. in Chicago to celebrate a mass. It was an hour-long drive from the church to Conboy funeral homes in Westchester. Considering that I would partake in the communion I thought it would be best to take the opportunity for a confession. So, there I was on the wheel with the priest on the passenger side while I confided my darkest deeds. I was at the time greatly troubled and burdened with thoughts of my ex who used to be my best friend, my fiancée, the would have been mother of my child, and the love of my life who betrayed and broke my heart.   We used to live in my apartment in Manila, while she lied to her mother saying that she was living in a dormitory near the University of Santo Tomas along Espana boulevard.  After she failed to pass her NCLEX exams in Hong Kong and later in San Francisco my family in Chicago sheltered her and helped her out. She eventually passed the licensure exams and moved back to California to practice her profession. Housing in California is as you know very expensive, so she decided to get a roomie. She introduced John to me via Yahoo messenger. She described him as a dwarf who manages to reach the gas and brake pedals on his truck using extenders. In short, he was a bald midget, no pun intended. I felt no reason to be threatened nor insecure. In the end, we can only be betrayed by those we trust.  One night over the phone she calls to break up. Long-distance relationships were always difficult if not doomed to fail and so I cried myself to sleep and let go.  I made no attempts to contact her then after a month,  out of the blue she called crying. Shouting why I never called her during the breakup. Why should I? She broke up with me. I took her back for the nth time, but this time she confessed to my disbelief and utter amazement that she cheated on me with the bald midget. Furthermore, she was two months pregnant. I was sobbing when I met her mother later that night to confirm what was going on. Grief came in slowly, painfully like waves lapping on the beach. Denial,  Anger, Bargaining, Despair,  Acceptance. Despite having a number of rebound relationships, I swore to never, ever, give a piece of my heart to anyone ever again.  That priest I fetched however stated that as part of my contrition, I should learn to love freely, and unconditionally and expect nothing in return. Years went by and as the saying goes all wounds heal with time. It was on my day off in September during my month-long assignment in Pittsburgh when I decided to go on a joyride on my bike. For posterity, I mounted my mobile phone and recorded the ride. This was part of that clip https://www.facebook.com/JakeCastle/videos/585678519955599  Pittsburgh used to be primarily an industrial city manufacturing glass, iron, and steel. The city is located on the peninsula where the rivers Allegheny and Monongahela River meet to form the Ohio river. After the economic downturn in the 1980s, the city transformed itself into a Medical and Information technology hub. The city hosts a number of Universities and institutes; U.P., Duquesne, Carlslowe, Carnegie Mellon, and the Chevron Center. It was there when I met a little lost girl who was looking for a bus. She was wearing a red knit jacket, grey sweatpants, rubber shoes, and a dirty raggedy white tennis t-shirt. As I rode by she asked to confirm if the intersection was the bus stop to Oakland. I apologized and told her that I did not know and went on my way continuing to explore the Carnegie Mellon campus.  You reminded me of Jackielyn, a brilliant painter,  the valedictorian of her class, another special someone I once shared my past life with. I eventually diagnosed Jack with Schizophrenia. She would occasionally give me a blank stare while she had an episode as she tried to resolve if what she was seeing was a hallucination. I didn't know why I initially circled back to check on you. In retrospect it was because you gave me the same blank look; that same stare that seemed to confirm you were lost and trying to find your way. You were carrying a black Swiss gear backpack,  a small plastic tote, a giant mostly empty breakfast mug with milk and cornflakes, and a colored laser printout of a laboratory report. With your dirty raggedy white T-shirt and that empty stare, I was honestly concerned if you were having a fugue: not the musical one, but the psychiatric one.  The big, long red port authority bus as it turned out was not the bus you were looking for. Concerned, I insisted on walking you to the shuttle stop to make sure you safely got on.  You on the other hand were concerned it might rain and continued to query if my destination was up the hill. I was returning to my hotel, the Marriott residence inn on Forbes Avenue across UPMC McGee's Women's Hospital in Oakland. During our conversation, you somehow were under the impression that I was doing a bike tour from Chicago to Pittsburgh. I replied that such an adventure would be a dream. I disclosed that I drove across the country car camping along the way. What I failed to disclose was that during my university years, I toured the island of Palawan by bicycle with a friend for an entire week sleeping in a tent by the seashore cooking meals with a propane stove. We did this while conducting a survey on Women's reproductive health services for a Canadian Non-government organization (N.G.O.).  To thoroughly answer your query, I was riding a modified e-bike I bought off amazon five years ago while I was living in Vallejo, on the North shore of the San Francisco Bay area, California. It was manufactured by Ancheer and I had recently replaced the battery pack. The battery pack has thirty-six volts and ten-amp hours. 36 Volts x 10 Amp hours equals 360 watts. Without pedaling on flat terrain, a human weighing a hundred fifty pounds will consume 20 watt hours per mile. 360 watts divided by 20 watts gives you a range of 18 miles. Pittsburgh International airport is about twenty-one miles from the Carnegie Mellon University - Entertainment Technology Center. You were right to assume that on a full charge, one can make a one-way journey to the airport if one were pedaling.  I personally would not want to do a bike tour from Chicago to Pittsburgh. What I would rather do is the 150-mile Great Allegheny Passageway Trail from Pittsburgh to Maryland as seen on this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRYck4V4oLY&t=51s  Geographically, the closest trail to my current residence is the Great Prairie Path in Illinois as shown here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pAwvJqlSR8      A dream trip would be in Europe, say Bren to Paris via bike; but alas much like a reply from you such an adventure is nothing more than a dream. What gave me away? That I was Filipino? That translation inquiry you pulled turned out too well. I honestly admit you got me good. What is the Tagalog word for dog? Thank you for the pun, I still find it hilarious and should use it on my fellow Filipino compatriots who can speak the language. I apologize for interrupting you. That printout of that lab report you were carrying along with that mug. I do not understand how the lunar cycle can affect twin proteins in regulating homeostatic functions in mammals.  All I know is that I get sleepy when a biochemist condescendingly discusses using Dimethyl sulfoxide as a solvent to study chromosomes.  I borrowed a pen from Emily to write down your email. On the bus, we found out she was a second-year Medical student who did a study on acute thrombosis grafts. Emily turned out to be a Nursing alumnus from Duquesne University. I deliberately withheld the fact that I earned a Bachelor's in Nursing and once I aspired to be a doctor. I should have asked for her email too.  Earlier during the week, I took an evening ride near the Cathedral of Learning. As I was stopped at the intersection, a college kid begged me to write a girl's phone number in his hand. He was too drunk to write and the girl he was chasing after obliged. She dictated her phone number as I laughed, telling her afterward that in doing this, she was giving me her phone too. She laughed back and said that she really was giving me her phone number too!  Wait...... wait...Tania, you probably don't believe me. I have that on video as well:   https://www.facebook.com/JakeCastle/videos/325865733046580 at about the three-minute mark. You were giggling while I wrote down your email on my forearm using Emily's pen. I found that so endearing. Seriously, I wish I knew more about what you were researching. Was that printout headed to the Chevron center? I got to speak with my best friend, Jay. He works at the Makati Medical Center back home and he also mentioned his interest in extending human longevity. Me, I'm just another plebeian. The only thing I can assume is that it must have been a full moon later that night when we met for me to foolishly indulge in a fantasy.  It was silly of me to want to get to know you better.  My curiosity got the best of me. The more I found out about you, the more I found myself intrigued and fascinated. You have a cute and unique facial expression when you get a question, a sincere smile, and a demure laugh that draws people toward you which is the total opposite of your formal email reply. I have so many questions, and so much more I would like to hear from you. Sadly, based on my experience it takes a lifetime to really know someone. You are an avid cyclist and swimmer. These are solitary activities that indicate you relish your solitude.  You grew up on the East Coast, spent a couple of years in Europe, and moved to  Colorado near Fort Collins. I am attaching a link to my favorite photos from when I drove through Loveland CO: https://photos.app.goo.gl/oSeUgd3o28hXuZg1A    I should be freaked out, I imagine you are too. Far too many coincidences. Too many I have to say.  I am currently assigned beside the Seidler Cancer Institute in Cleveland Ohio after we completed the project in St. Joe Michigan. Pittsburgh is only a two-hour drive from here. Fate itself drew me closer to where we met. The universe itself seems to have conspired to cross our paths.  I mentioned once that Filipinos are by our very nature fatalistic. That we believe in fate, that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps, the reason was for me to unwittingly accomplish my contrition. I thank you for your time, I thank you for your smile. Please be at ease, I wish you only the best.  Wholeheartedly, The Frog Prince

Why California Can't Stop People From Leaving | Terry Gilliam

visiting Pitsburg, PA