I’m in the paper! You can see why my back was so screwed up yesterday, and yes those are my underpants on over long-johns. I was told that was the right way to dress for the team.
Also, there a nice photo from Roller Derby with our friends Hanna and Sarah in it.
You go girls!
Just call me “Uncle Beefcake.”
It’s 80 degrees in Westhaven! Sort of a miracle even for summer. I’m going out to check out some potential local office spaces.
Things have been good. Work is a little harder when I’m not in the office. There are social dynamics I can’t keep spinning when I’m out of town. In the long run these plates need to spin themselves (with the aid of ye olde partners) but in the short term it looks like I’m the secret sauce.
Personally I’m still recovering from a hell of a weekend. Good, but left me feeling a bit dazed and behind on things. I had a real live date though — a fulfillment of my “power-dating” mandate, even — which went pretty well, although with schedules being what they are who knows when a second rendezvous might occur.
I have a shit-ton of photos from the party too. If you’re on facebook you can peep them there. I’ll try and get something up on Flickr too. Lots of excellent knuckle tats.
Anyway, apologies in advance to everything I’m behind on. I will be playing catch-up over the next week/end I’m sure, but you’re all in my heart and thoughts.
In brief. I’ve lived to see the ripe old age of 29. My mom has been having a lovely visit. The Country Soul Carmival Speakeasy was flawless victory (pictures a-plenty, for a change), and they have Jalapino Poppers on the menu at Larrupin, where I took the momster for her special day (poppers wrapped in bacon, natch).
Exhausted now, but in a very good and soul-satisfied way.
Flashing through the accumulated images of the past week, it’s a heady mixed bag. Trying to work my way from being a direct-actor to a manager. Trying to get ahead of the curve. Trying to continue my studious avoidance of all feminine diversions. Trying not to get boring as I get old. Trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Trying to communicate. Trying to love. Trying to speak correctly. Trying to listen. Trying.
And a few things occur to me.
In the smear of pint-night down at Everett’s, veterans of the military and Gillman st telling stories early, Kelly and Zya creating interpretive dances to Neil Diamond, then the kids coming in as the evening sets in; there emerges a ray of light in shiny blue tights, sheer brilliance, such as to make me avert my eyes. She looks pretty good at the coffeeshop usually, but this is another level, enough to make a man reexamine his beliefs. It occurs to me that my “my head’s not in it” excuse for studious avoidance of such is a self-fulfilling prophecy with real limits in its utility. Something’s got to change, but for the moment, hey, at least you’ve got a collectable pint glass to duck into.
And from this, a potential remedy for my romantic listlessness, a possible self-concept, an avenue of habitual action. How does “power-dating” sound? It’s more applicable than my retired manslut persona non grata, and it could be useful to get me out there in some way. It ties in with ambition and other shadowy forces that need outlets. I don’t know how it squares with living half-n-half between here and the Bay — where exactly do I set my sites? both? — but it seems worth trying.
The general premise is that, hey, I’m a single successful guy. I’m trying to make something of my life and managing some success. Why shouldn’t I be aiming high, perhaps absurdly and intentionally so, in my pursuit of companionship? Why shouldn’t I try to find someone who wants to be part of a power couple? It’s unlikely that my ambitions are going to cool off anytime soon, and I like powerful women, so why not make that my new thing?
I’m not sure yet, but this still seems like a halfway decent idea in the morning.
Finally, on another note, a chance for adventure. My great friend Julia has some free tickets to Coachella, and I’m going to try and pull off a little last-minute trip action. It’ll be good to get a change of scenery. I’ll take some photos or something.
In a New York City, and presumably other big cities, one builds a vital sense of community out of the people with whom you have regular pattern overlaps: fellow commuters, the workers at the coffeeshop when you like to go, the corner deli staff, one or two people in your building you see often. Otherwise, you’re awash in strangers, and points of familiarity tend to be a welcome surprise and a comfort, even when they’re discovered through the mediation of customer service.
In the HC, you’ve probably seen everyone before, several times, possibly even picking up enough information along the way to form opinions about these people even if you don’t know their names. Unfamiliar faces are rare and precious, and people often use the mediation of social roles — again customer service comes to mind, but there are other examples — as a means of creating pseudonymity where none actually exists, a way of escaping omnipresent social information or obligation.
Clearly these are generalizations, and deeply colored by my own bias. Still, kind of interesting.
It’s a fantabulous day here in the HC, going beyond the beauty of sping and offering a legitimate preview of what we enjoy come Summer. The sun is hot and the breeze is fresh. I spent the first half of the afternoon lazing about the plaza at the farmers market. I was hoping to score some organic cucumbers (for to make deliciously infused gin) but it’s too early. Most people are just selling plant sprouts, herbs and gourds and leeks and salad greens.
But it’s still a good place to hang out, to see and be seen. For instance, I ran into Aaron from Green Wheels, who’s sort of a socially entrepreneurial peer for me here. He put a quote from me into his quarterly newsletter. I may try and help them out with the Drups on their website, etc. It’s all part of putting down my own roots locally.
Farmers market is also a nice place to people-watch; solar power demos and pretty ladies. Nothing much happening there, just some hippy guy catching paper on fire and me lurking around, watching for beauty. Pretty cool though, and important for me to get out in the world. It’s gotten to the point where people in #drupal tell me to “go meet real girls” (I’d said I had “a date with some javascript this weekend”), and it feels a bit like I’ve entered into a situation comedy based on how often people seem to want to fix me up. Not that I mind that, but it’s definitely a new phenomena. New can be good though.
Anyway, I’m not stressing it. Someday I’ll find a nice girl who’ll talk nerdy to me and things will just click. The flutter will return. I feel pretty confident in that, even if the meantime is a tad lonely.
Well, I’d better get back to that javascript date, and my taxes. I want to wrap it all up and go see a play!
(Photo by Hamed Saber)
After a late-night drive I’ve returned to the HC, home of struggles over code enforcement and many other great things. I got out to a late start, but it was allright since there isn’t any traffic in Santa Rosa at 8pm and I got a tip to check out Radio Lab, which provided great entertainment for the first four hours of the trip.
I woke up this morning and noticed how quiet it was. Contrast is nice.
Lots of goings on around here. Always more to do. It looks like I’ll be burning the candle at both ends and also melting into it from various points in the middle between now and my 29th birthday (May 10th, also the date for the Country Soul Carnival!).
I’m hoping to have the time and energy to get my writing back into gear also. It may not happen, but I’m hoping my high-functioning nature continues kicking and I just operate at more RPMs rather than getting burned out and overwhelmed.
We’ll see.
(Photo by Lynda True)
Not much going on ‘round here. I have become infested with the Humboldt County Crud, which will hopefully pass soon. On the upside its a winter wonderland here (rare snow) and we replaced our broken dishwasher, raising the Westhaven standard of living by 3.35 points in a single afternoon.
Since I’ve been sleeping and laying in bed more, I’ve been thinking about what kind of life I want to lead, trying to let my mind wander, entice the possibilities. It’s been a year and a half since I relocated to this little slice of earth. Time flies.
After a busy-as-all-hell week in SF (note to self: this is what happens when I don’t set foot in the office for two months) I’ve returned to the welcoming arms of Westhaven. It’s nice to be back in the land of hot tubs and bonfires and cookouts and such. We also have some old and new friends from Portland and New Zealand visiting this weekend, so it’s been a fun-time party.
Yesterday we hit up the shooting club and fired off a few rounds w/Capn. Frank’s shotgun. It was just my second time shooting and the first for some of the girls we brought, which was fun. By the third round of traps I was actually correctly aiming (or as our elderly sweat-pants and tie-dye range guide called it “pointing”) and able to hit two out of three targets. It’s nice to know how to safely handle guns; makes them less alien and frightening.
I hit the skate ramp too. Our 6-year-old former roommate Wiley has been working his skills and just learned to drop in, and was egging me on to do it with him. I have yet to put in the hours to even learn basic side-to-side balance, but for Wiley’s sake I made four or five attempts. Two of them were actually correct to form — putting the nose down; not what your instincts want you to do — but all resulted in total wipeouts, which is part of the whole thing after all. It’s a lot of fun to have kids use the ramp because A) it’s very cute and B) our neighbors really really hate the thing, and having a bunch of kids and toddlers playing on it makes it sort of invincible to criticism.
It’s High Autumn in the HC. The weather is perfect and people are flush with cash. Starlets are biting our styles, and football is delivering constant entertainment. So now it’s back to work, and maybe getting back into yoga class or at least the Gym. I feel the need to re-awaken my body, start digging into some projects.
A mishmash of things this fine Friday morning:
Life is good. I sent out some snail-mail yesterday and caught up on some e-correspondence too, keeping up connections. I’m sort of digging my own existence again, feeling the potential.
