Choosing procrastination: Once again, I'm pushed up against a deadline and where do I turn to? This. Sometimes I think that I should try writing for a living. I'd probably just turn to something else to procrastinate writing. The question came up yesterday, why am I so lame? The swift answer, because you choose to be. A reply both harsh and hopeful. What would suck is if one were lame by nature. Sort of like William Hung. Actually, I'm still hopefully that he's lame just because he chooses to be ... but maybe that's just wishful thinking. Anyway, I'm meandering and I really don't have a point. Maybe I'll just stop being lame right now.
I really need to update at home instead of work. Except that when I'm sitting at my desk at home I really can't think of anything profound to write. Or maybe it's just when I'm in the brain-suck of work everything non-work that I think about seems profound. Hence the desire not to do work and to update here instead. Seems like all the news is about Condi Rice and her testifying in front of the 9/11 commission. I remember part of the March 24 hearing where one of the panel members ceded his time with Clarke in exchange for time from another panel member's time with Condi Rice (the joke being that she would never testify. Anyway, I guess you had to be there. )Yesterday I was reading on the Yahoo! message boards (don't even ask why I was lurking there) and I saw a post which stated, "Condi Rice claims executive privilege. This from the same administration that instituted the Patriot Act and said, 'If you don't have anything to hide, you have nothing to worry about.'" The real problem is that even if nothing comes from this, people will still think that there's something that they're hiding, just because she refused to testify in the beginning. News is funny that way, it makes about as much sense as my journal entries. ^_^
This past Saturday was perhaps our last snowboarding trip of the season. We went to Northstar and managed to spend most of the day on blacks, which isn't saying much since they were pretty weak. We did foolishly enough decide to go down one run with pretty large moguls. Err ... that sucked, but otherwise it was a pretty good trip. I managed to carve my way down a few moderate runs without eating it, so I'm pretty happy. I am glad that the season is over though ... even though I was fortunate enough not to have to drive most of the time, it's still annoying getting up to Tahoe.
Yesterday I saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind with Carol. Damn my prediliction for motion sickness, from the opening scenes, I knew I wouldn't be able to get through this movie. (It's actually not that bad, I just can't watch movies filmed with handheld cameras.) Personal demons aside, this was a great movie. It's so good that I'm thinking about taking motion sickness pills and watching it again. I won't say anymore than that because I'm just wasting your time, dear reader. Time which you should be using to see this movie.
Sometimes I write here to wake up, because I'm simply not ready for the rigors of the day. Like many of the days in the past few weeks, I'm swamped at work. But since I'm not ready to think about it, I'm really not ready to write about it. In line with my tendancy to present things out of order: Last Saturday, Carol treated a small group of us to Greens. It's a beautiful restaurant situated in the back portion of a warehouse in Fort Mason. Lofty ceilings made quiet conversation impossible, but it certainly made the place lively. A dish of almonds, cream cheese, jimaca, and watermelon radish were complementary. I ordered the potato and green garlic soup which was very subtly delicious. The rest of the group had salads of varying mixes which I won't even try to name, suffice it to say that everyone was delighted with their choice. AA ordered a bottle of champange, Gloria Ferrer '95 Reserve, for the table as a celebratory gesture to Carol's acceptances. It was perhaps the second glass of champange that I have ever enjoyed. For the entree I was alone in ordering the mushroom ravioli. A fairly common dish even in non-vegitarian restaurants, it was very good, the sauce was perhaps too rich for some people's palates; however, for mine it was perfect. Everyone else order the tartlet which was equally appetizing. Most of the praise fell on the perfectly cooked gold potatoes, but I had a bite of the tarlet and I thought it fairly tasty too. For dessert I chose the creme carmel which everyone said was superb. The other desserts garnered various reactions, but the only negative was the slight tartness of Carol's dish which ended up drenched in a rasberry puree. Overall it was an excellent evening (my allergies aside).
No time. Quickly. All roads had construction on them this morning. Very annoying. Late to work. Almost had my desk cleared off, now I have a couple of urgent meetings and other projects reaching critical mass. Mom called from Taiwan, now I'm worried about that. Too many things at once.
I found this interesting. It seems that on average, those under 30 aren't quite where they want to be yet and want to be a little older. Those in their mid thirties are happy to freeze time and never venture past 40. Those in their forties like to round down and those in their fifties and early sixties wish they were still in their forites. And those any older just wish that they weren't over 60. Or maybe that's just interesting to me.
Once again I feel sieged at work. From my 10 foot by 10 foot carpet wall sanctuary, I image peering over virtual crenelations at the innumerable hordes. Which is to say that I feel overwhelmed and bored at the same time. After awhile the daily changes to my project become hackneyed and I lose interest. Even as peope scurry around like mice a maze, I feel detatched from it, as if to say, what does it matter, it's all going to change tomorrow anyway.
I woke Sunday to overcast skies and felt the winter clinging to the earth, challenging the Equinox. A quick warm-up jaunt out to Walnut Creek saw Clementine come out from under the cloud cover and we found ourselves the first sunlight of Spring. The main event came as our pack of seven raced up Mt. Diablo with high-reving engines and screaching tires. Chasing the black MR2 was like chasing the shadows at sunset. The blue silver S2000 seemed to meld into the blurred scenery and then, with enough of a lead over the Daytona Blue Z, I was along with Carol, testing Clementine and my ability to drive.
I think I'm daydreaming again. As are you who might read this this day. Let us reattach and get back to what we were doing.
I've decided that the real problem is my hair. It's getting much too long. I've an appointment scheduled for Saturday and I just can't wait to hack off this mop. This small annoyance seems to be a small flaw that widens in to a mile wide schism: conflicting work pressures, deliquent yard work, and of course, the harbinger of spring -- allergies.
Anyway, I wish I had more time to update ... or think of something more creative. I wasted most of my creative energy last night, writing up another chapter of Zed's story. I haven't posted it yet, eventually I plan to splice it all together and drop it on this site just so it's a little easier to read. Don't hold your breath though....
Lately it seems that all I do around the house is clean. It seems that when I've finally made my way all the way around I have to start all over again. Or start clean the yard. Or clean the car. Yesterday I tried to get out of work on time so that I could trim the trees in the side yard. I managed to make it home by 7:30, but by then it was dark. Luckily, I was able to drag my sorry self out of bed a little early and clean up the part of the tree that my neighbor had so graceously trimmed for me. (No sarcasm intended, I had promised to do it several months ago...) In the mornings it seems like if I only had a few more hours I'd be able to get it all together ... by the time I get home, it seems hopeless.
I think about trying to describe this. Overwhelmed seems best. But I don't really think that true either. I was describing it to a co-worker in the hallway. I told her that it had been a really long day. And that I actually enjoy days that are very full. The problem is that it makes me think of all those days that aren't full. All those spare moments I could use if I could somehow pull them forward in time. It makes me think about the stolen moments and that's what drags me down.
But the last few days have been very full. And I think that if I can just keep moving forward, I can take that momentum and break through the ennui and get something done.
Apologies for the lack of updates, I've been in Southern Cali all weekend and my mom's 56k isn't the most pleasant to update with. Last Friday, after dropping by the office to finish one last thing, I rushed to OAK. A couple of hours later I was driving my rental car (Pontiac Sunfire) back home to have lunch with my mom. After lunch and a bit of lounging around, I drove to Westwood to hang out with CL. After a bit of golf shopping and lounging around her place, we decided to go to Todai. After stuffing ourselves silly, we headed back to Westwood to play some poker. After two rounds of Omaha and a round of Hold' Em, I managed to take only one hand and ended down only a dollar. CL wasn't so lucky, losing her buy-in of $10 and then some. I crashed at CL's for the night.
Saturday morning, I drove to LMU to team teach and EF session with SE. Due to some strange scheduling, I ended up getting out of there several hours earlier than I thought I would and decided to impose on A&M. They were gracious enough to entertain me until I had settled my evening plans with AC. I drove out to Santa Monica to meet up with her and her boyfriend and they were kind enough to cook up a vegetarian dinner. After which I decided that I do like soba and that I don't like any soup that doesn't have enough salt in it. After watching an episode of The Family Guy (which is just a little un-PC) I drove myself back home.
I finally had a chance to spend some quality time with my mom on Sunday. I treated her to Sumo Sushi, which has 50% sushi all day long -- you can get a lot of sushi for 50% off, let me tell you. Afterwards I met up with A and we drove to Alhambra to pick up LT. A&L are two of my best friends and this was the first time they met. After that, I didn't really have to say a word for the rest of the night. We ended up back in Santa Monica at Cinch, which is a upscale Japanese (again!) fusion restaurant. The prices were definitely upscale and the drinks were a little on the weak side. The food was decent but varied from being pricey to just-okay. We met up with one of A's friends who lives near there and hung out at his place for a little bit before driving PCH back and taking the canyon pass through the fog and mist.
I flew back on Monday and learned that it had been perfect weather all weekend. I guess you can't win them all.
Apologies for the brief entries, I tend to update at work and works been hell for the last couple of weeks. I figure I'm somewhere around the third or fourth ring and that it can only get worse.
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Carol has gotten into the MBA program at NYU. So, if I seem beamish today, you will know why.
Again, there seems to be dearth of things to mention other than the achievements of others and work. This must be rectified.
Word of the Day: Intimate (v.) - 1. to make known formally; annouce 2. to make known indirectly; hint or imply.
It's a moot point. And by that I mean to be ambigious. Some stories are meant to be straight foward, others oblique. This is not one of them.
Sometimes it's just nice to write. Sometimes there's no other point than the challenge of threading words together to see how long you can continue a senseless thought. Ah, to be liberated from purpose.
I've run out of time to make meaning. Perhaps tomorrow.
I was wrong. After giving Vienna Teng's new CD, Warm Strangers, a more thorough listen through, I'll have to say that it's the better of the two albums. The thing that really caught my attention when I really started listening to the album was the way that the songs seemed to support each other. The first song, Feather moon, isn't one that you might play for a friend and say, "This is Vienna Teng, isn't she great?" But when you start to think of it in the context of an album, you see it's place as an invocation. With a broad impressionistic brush, Ms. Teng sings of the inexplicable drive to express beauty, so difficult and yet so necessary. Harbor, is more typical of the "Vienna" sound, yet with it's more intricate rhythms and meters, shows her development as an artist. Here she sings of those that first supported her, those that support her still. She sings of the support that we all need when we set out to pursue our dreams. One can imagine Ms. Teng's journey as a struggling artist and the emotions that accompany it, desire (Hope on Fire), apprehension (Shine), loneliness (Mission Street), and frustration (My Medea). The next three songs are an epiphany, Shasta, Homecoming, and Anna Rose show her realization that everyone's journey is her journey and her journey, everyone's. They are the stories and lives of others and yet they are hers. The brooding Passage guides us to a conclusion, looking forward to what we leave behind. And The Atheist Christmas Carol leaves us with a song of hope. We hear in it the voice of an artist who has finished one leg of a journey, wiser perhaps for the distance travelled. So, with a happy heart, I say that I look forward to many hours of aural enjoyment from an artist who is equally capable of expressing a grand adventure as she is painting poetic vignettes.
Finally finished The Da Vinci Code yesterday. It was a pretty easy read, slightly thought provoking with its references to secret societies and religious symbology. I think most of it's appeal lies the way the author blends the sights of Paris and London in with a fairly artful story. One thing that it definitely does is entice the read to travel.
Richard gave me an autographed copy of Vienna Teng's Warm Strangers yesterday. I've only had a chance to listen to a few of the songs, but so far I'd have to agree with Brian's assessment, Waking Hour was better. That said, when I first listened to Waking Hour, there were several songs that I skipped over, now when I listen to it, there's scarcely a song I don't like. The truth is, I feel like I spoiled. After listening to Vienna live (and usually solo) nothing compares. I'll endevor to post a more thorough review after I've had a chance to fully absorb the CD.
Lately there hasn't been much to report. After climbing yesterday we went to 168 for yet another pathetic excuse for service experience. This time, when Lily was checking on Richard's order, she slipped in (in Mandarin) "Everytime we come you screw up our order" Right in-between, "We ordered the Goose-Meat Vermicelli" and "Can you please check on that." I really think we need to stop going there ... the food isn't very good to begin with. Though the fortune cookies are a blast. Yesterday my fortune was, "Be moderate in pursuing pleasure. Avoid fatigue." Heh, aren't I always?
This morning I went in to get my flat tire changed. As I was limping slowly towards Wheel Works, I began wondering exactly when it was that I had forgotten to fix the flat in my spare tire. The morning was pretty much shot as I had to wait for half an hour for the shop to open and then another two hours for them to change all four tires and check my alignment. Why all four? Well, because after 40,000 or so, one has very little tread left. As for my alignment, I think it was pretty good considering it probably hadn't been checked since the car was purchased 90,000 miles ago. Well, I really must remember to be a good car owner and do things like rotate the tires and avoid potholes. As a result, I ended up cruising into work close to lunch time, already weary from my morning.
Yesterday took Carol to dinner at Ozumo. It's a very upscale contemporary Japanese Restaurant near Boulevard. We ended up seated at the Sushi Bar, which was perfect for us because we love sushi. The only non-sushi item we order was the Hanabi, which consisted of Hamachi and avacado slices, with a drizzle of soy-ginger-chili sauce. It was absolutely delicious. Though, being the same price as the Terra appetizer that we ordered on V-Day, I preferred the later. Or sushi selection was relatively mundane. Ama-ebi (with the heads fried), Maguro, Kampachi (Wild Yellowtail), Hirame, Striped Bass, and a Salmon Skin Roll. All were mild in flavor with a hint of sweetness. The Kampachi stood out as some of the best Nigiri I'd ever had. Overall, it was an excellent meal and the atmosphere is tastful, if a bit trendy, but it is in the final analysis too pricey for what you get.
Yesterday at work, one of my co-workers asked me into his office to discuss some union business. He took me by surprise when he asked me how I thought he was doing as Presdient of the Union. At first I said that I thought he was doing okay, then added to that by saying that there were a few things that I thought he could do better. He nodded his assent and then continued, "To be honest, I had given up on you." That set off all the internal alarms; the emotional shields were up. This was going to be one of those conversations. "You have shown me such a lack of respect." What? When? Where? Respect has to be earned buddy. But I already knew he was right. I remember the meeting we had with management. How he had gone off on some random tangent and I had sat there in silent frustration shaking my head. Yesterday, as he explained to me the meaning of union, I sat chagrined. "I'm not perfect ... I'm well aware of my flaws ... If I can give you one piece of advice ... Be more accepting of others weaknesses."
Respect. I realize I don't have enough of it. And like those who are stingy with love, it causes a hollowness somewhere. Rather, it comes from a hollowness somewhere. Each of us measures the people we meet by a common yardstick, ourself. And if we can not find it within us to respect ourselves, then how can we ever respect someone else?
Being sick sucks. Last week was extremely stressful. Between a plethora of changes at work, helping with AEA's annual dinner, and dealing with other problems that have been hanging over my head, I'm sure my body was on the verge of revolt. A long day trip up to Sugar Bowl probably didn't help matters much and then that plate of mussels at Cafe Bernardo sparked the coup d'etat. Yesterday I was laid up in bed all day with stomach flu like symptoms. So much so that I had to miss the Vienna Teng concert at Fort Mason. That really was the worst part, never mind the body ache and the rampant vomitting, I had to miss a Vienna Teng concert! Oh well, I think if I had gone, I would have been even more miserable. In any case, I'm feeling a little better today; breakfast is staying down so far....