I'm sitting here in the mid-renovation Oakland terminal waiting on my overnight flight to NYC. They finally have gratis wifi on the scene (good move, Oakland), and it's as good as an airport gets. I got through security with no waiting and all smiles for my bike-chain bracelet which gets me a wanding every time, scored some Advil PM from the quick shop, and snagged half a table in the crowded little makeshift bar that's serving this wing while the old spot is under reconstruction. Things have gone so smoothly I've got like 45 minutes to kill.

It's been a pretty good run the past few days. This weekend I got some much-needed bonding time with good old LGD and his special lady, some late night whiskeytime and a great tasty family dinner too. Cooking delicious group meals is one of my most favorite thing to do, and I honestly can't say why I don't organize these things more often. Seems like something to consider going forward.

I'm gradually becoming aware that the primary reason my social life has felt a bit fallow is that I've largely stopped arranging for things to happen, become just another lamp-ray go-along follower, picking up on other peoples action. One undeniable pattern in my history is that the better times in my life tend to coincide with taking on the role of instigator, provocateur, catalyst, etc. Again, something to consider.

In keeping with my recent wedding-borne inquiry into default notions of romantic future, the arc of the story, and also owing to the fact that I finished my most recent book conquest -- the inestimable Mountains Beyond Mountains (we're helping out PIH w/their drupals at chapter3) -- I've been considering the possibilities.

Fact: to the best of my knowledge all but a recent few of my significant romantic interests (the "old flame" category) are now married, engaged to be married, or have been married. Some of them even have children. This would seem to suggest that the kinds of girls I've been into over the years are the marrying kind. Also it would seem to suggest that my future more likely than not lies in undiscovered country.

Counter-Fact: I haven't been in any relationships lasting a year or more, and have never lived with a lover. Also, to put it diplomatically, I don't have a strong track record of fidelity.

Fact: I really really like kids. I've always loved children, was a babysitter as a young man, and I've gotten into arguments with people who suggest that it's morally questionable to bring new ones into the world (as opposed to say adopting). I seem to have a pretty strong desire to pass on my DNA.

Counter-Fact: the particular circumstances of my life (massive work, lack of steady location, etc) are not conducive to settling down. I've also shown a particular affinity for rambling, as well as a resistance to compromising personal goals or priorities for the sake of others.

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.

New tag. Drupal set message "Power dating." Backstory on that is here, and I'll elaborate with new thoughts now.

Well, actually, first I start with self-quote, to illustrate just how sisyphusian this feels at time. From my report back from Baja, which feels like another lifetime:

I realized, for instance, just how blatantly I’ve been keeping myself out of range of romance out of fear more than anything else. Sex and love have always been intertwined in my experience, and avoiding one is a pretty good way to skirt the other. Much as I bemoan my lonely state, it’s my own choices and habits of action that render it so. I’ve been rationalizing this to myself as a kind of jaded maturity, but now I think that’s just bluster.

The truth is I’m afraid of what might happen: of getting hurt, of hurting someone else, of getting into unknown territory where the possibility of both those things just gets greater. It’s weak sauce, really, because this is what life is all about; but as they say the first step towards finding a solution is admitting you have a problem. So there’s that.

I also realized in conjunction with the above that I’ve been looking backwards a lot, for similar reasons, when really I should be looking forward. The possibilities of the future are almost literally endless, and when I begin to entertain them I feel a real true gut-level sense of trepidation — “don’t make plans; don’t invest; shit doesn’t pan out, remember?” — and it feels like it might be that good kind of Allen Ginsburg brand of fear. The kind I know I should pursue.