But I still feel like I'm gonna be hungover tomorrow. At least it's friday!
Saw Inception tonight. You know you got a good movie when you have high expectations that it's gonna be a mind bender, but it bends your mind anyway. Great performances, crazy mish-mash of physics, original storyline. Definitely a quality movie. And it was PG-13. How about that.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Welcome tweeters.
So I've decided to open up my blog a little bit to the people that are following me on Twitter. There are a few close friends, some acquaintances, and maybe a stalker or two. Whatever. I don't think I'm bold enough to post it on Facebook considering how many people I've added on there for various reasons. But I s'pose this is a start.
Anyway, here goes nothing. And please, feel free to comment.
Anyway, here goes nothing. And please, feel free to comment.
So I guess I'm not taking it easy today.
I was staring out the window of my coworker's '89 325i, amazed at the honey laden afternoon sunlight dripping off the facades of houses stacked along 19th Avenue, thinking about the gorgeous weather and how nice it would have been to take Betts (my car) on a cruise with the top down, when I mentioned that yeah, "It's been a pretty busy week. I think I'm gonna take it easy today."
"Tony, it's only Tuesday."
And I recounted all the things I've done over the course of the past seven days and there was a moment of silent recognition.
My phone rings nary a minute later.
It's Aaron.
"So, what are you up to?"
"Not much. What's up?"
"Well the weather was so nice, we decided to fire up the grill and have a little barbecue."
...
So much for taking it easy.
"Tony, it's only Tuesday."
And I recounted all the things I've done over the course of the past seven days and there was a moment of silent recognition.
My phone rings nary a minute later.
It's Aaron.
"So, what are you up to?"
"Not much. What's up?"
"Well the weather was so nice, we decided to fire up the grill and have a little barbecue."
...
So much for taking it easy.
Too much alcohols.
I've never considered myself a big drinker. Peer pressure to down another shot is a huge pet peeve, and I hate dealing with hangovers. That said, there are times that warrant a few drinks. A long day at work, a well-deserved meal, dealing with emotional situations, a camping trip. And during the past week, I've dealt with all of the above.
And in my case, it's beer. 2 pints last night. 10 12oz bottles and a girly shot over the weekend. 2 22oz bottles, one with yakitori, the other with bi bim bap. This drinking isn't nearly as bad as when I was in New York, but seeing as I'm trying to be healthier these days, it's probably counter productive. I might as well be drinking Coke. With a headache.
So here's what I'm going to do. Less beer. More shots. Not necessarily hard stuff, but you know, sake or soju instead of beer. Maybe a neat Scotch to stew over instead of pounding a couple beers. And hopefully that'll translate to less hangover, and less caloric intake.
And in my case, it's beer. 2 pints last night. 10 12oz bottles and a girly shot over the weekend. 2 22oz bottles, one with yakitori, the other with bi bim bap. This drinking isn't nearly as bad as when I was in New York, but seeing as I'm trying to be healthier these days, it's probably counter productive. I might as well be drinking Coke. With a headache.
So here's what I'm going to do. Less beer. More shots. Not necessarily hard stuff, but you know, sake or soju instead of beer. Maybe a neat Scotch to stew over instead of pounding a couple beers. And hopefully that'll translate to less hangover, and less caloric intake.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Day 8
Start time: 8:31PM
Finish time: 10:13PM
Total time: 1'42"
Distance: 24 blocks (9.6 mi)
Avg min/mi: 10.63
Avg mi/hr: 5.65
Approx. calories burned: 1358
Notes: Heart felt incredible today. After the run the other day, I wanted to take a slower pace so I could eek out more distance. Had a coffee this afternoon, maybe that contributed. Didn't feel short of breath at all. First three blocks, calves were sore, then I ran it off. Around lap 14, left knee started tightening up. Ran it off. Left knee started tightening up again on and off from laps 19 and on. By the end of the run, my legs felt super heavy. But still wasn't out of breath. Should either start weight training on my legs, or pick up the pace so the stress on my legs balances out with the stress in on my heart.
Finish time: 10:13PM
Total time: 1'42"
Distance: 24 blocks (9.6 mi)
Avg min/mi: 10.63
Avg mi/hr: 5.65
Approx. calories burned: 1358
Notes: Heart felt incredible today. After the run the other day, I wanted to take a slower pace so I could eek out more distance. Had a coffee this afternoon, maybe that contributed. Didn't feel short of breath at all. First three blocks, calves were sore, then I ran it off. Around lap 14, left knee started tightening up. Ran it off. Left knee started tightening up again on and off from laps 19 and on. By the end of the run, my legs felt super heavy. But still wasn't out of breath. Should either start weight training on my legs, or pick up the pace so the stress on my legs balances out with the stress in on my heart.
Back from my first camping trip.
Yup. Tents. Roasted marshmallows. A short hike. Woke up under a canopy of majestic redwood trees. I'd write more, but I'm a little brain dead. Lots of beer. Lots of sausages. Lots of fresh air.
Not a bad weekend.
Not a bad weekend.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
We lit a fire in my room.
Watched the flames grow, glowing embers
tracing the carpet, the dresser,
brilliant light cut through the smoke,
pure morsels of red,
like sitting on the inside of a sunset,
the way the mirage of the horizon
slices the copper rays of sun
into rows of dust and glowing incense.
It's like sitting in the pit of hope.
We prodded and we stoked. No reality,
no street cleaning trucks hissing and fussing
along the curbside, no stacked envelopes
of bills left on the coffee table unpaid.
Only a child-like curiosity for watching
things burn. It's easy to let go
of reality, let emotions pull us
from we've learned, the stacks of love letters
whose meaning fade, turn from sentiment
to dry sheets of paper dappled with time.
And I gave it all up. Foolhardy and naive.
Thinking that love was an all-consuming,
permeating force of nature, rather than
a force of destruction.
There are reasons, and there are ashes,
piled high and swaying, breaking off into the wind
like graphite snowflakes shed from the earth.
And I think about what I gave up.
The way I reached over and held your hand,
held it for one fleeting moment,
before letting go to strike the match.
tracing the carpet, the dresser,
brilliant light cut through the smoke,
pure morsels of red,
like sitting on the inside of a sunset,
the way the mirage of the horizon
slices the copper rays of sun
into rows of dust and glowing incense.
It's like sitting in the pit of hope.
We prodded and we stoked. No reality,
no street cleaning trucks hissing and fussing
along the curbside, no stacked envelopes
of bills left on the coffee table unpaid.
Only a child-like curiosity for watching
things burn. It's easy to let go
of reality, let emotions pull us
from we've learned, the stacks of love letters
whose meaning fade, turn from sentiment
to dry sheets of paper dappled with time.
And I gave it all up. Foolhardy and naive.
Thinking that love was an all-consuming,
permeating force of nature, rather than
a force of destruction.
There are reasons, and there are ashes,
piled high and swaying, breaking off into the wind
like graphite snowflakes shed from the earth.
And I think about what I gave up.
The way I reached over and held your hand,
held it for one fleeting moment,
before letting go to strike the match.
I fell asleep real early today.
Something like 9PM. It's been a long week. Last night was out a little later than usual, helping a friend work on her pharmacy essay. I think she was a little overwhelmed, showed me some samples of essays written by friends that got into UCSF. They weren't that different, each had a sob story about somebody getting sick. Each had a detailed description of their internships. It was all very cerebral and technical. Both were lacking heart.
She thought about making up a story. I told her to keep that story in her back pocket, and asked her about her experiences. She talked a lot about the different ups and downs of her internships. How in her downtime she'd ask a lot of questions, had coworkers quiz her on facts and such. How she was able to help people who didn't speak English. How in one instance, she may have saved somebody's life.
There was a personal history, and some personal stories. And that's all we needed. Not something we made up. And it was heartfelt. It was passionate. It was something the UCSF kids didn't have. And it was all true.
I didn't get to bed till twelve and a half last night. Slept like a baby. Slept past three snoozes on the iPhone. Woke up, got ready, and waited for my ride.
So I go to work, it's a Friday, spent a lot of time in my car to and from work. In traffic. Top down. Fuckin' felt great. I love my car. The freedom. The thrill. Even in stop and go traffic, just the visceral motions of shifting gears and breathing everything from the fresh summer air to the tired exhaust on 101 is liberating. Makes me feel one with the earth.
So I get home. Thought about what I wanted to do. Curled up in a ball in bed and passed out.
At 11:30 I get a call. It's Brian. He wants to go drinking. I roll out of bed and get dressed.
Pretty uneventful. I was so tired I skipped dinner, so I got an order of won ton mien at ABC cafe across the street from our regular watering hole and scarfed it down at the bar. One. Two. Three Heinekens. A game of pool. Slapping hands with a few friends and a few strangers. Watching the Food Network on a plasma screen, Giada was prancing around my old stomping grounds in New York. Watching New York on TV always gets me nostalgic. And before you know it, I'm home again.
Tomorrow I'm going camping. Not everybody that originally planned to go can make it, so I'm a little bummed about that. But it'll be good to sleep outside for a change. Have some good conversation, food, and booze. Borrowed a sleep mat and a cooler from a coworker. Went to REI to pick up a sleeping bag. It's just one night, so how bad can it be? You could go out into the wilderness buck nekkid for 24 hours with absolutely nothing and come out OK.
Spoken like a true city boy.
On the way home, driving through dark lanes of tree-lined traffic in Golden Gate Park, Brian keeps asking me if everything's OK. I guess I didn't feel super social tonight, especially after shaking off the cobwebs of a week filled with exhaustion to make it out for a few drinks. He asks me if I had a good time. I tell him yeah, of course. These days I don't have a lot of expectations for things. He says low expectations are a good thing.
Time and the glow of street lamps past midnight. The cold breath of fog that seems to permeate everything, the shadowy boughs of Monterrey cypress, the slick layer of dew brushed across the asphalt.
Sometimes there are nights of longing. Other times, there are nights of living. There's always a story, sometimes it's just a matter of fleshing it out and writing it down.
She thought about making up a story. I told her to keep that story in her back pocket, and asked her about her experiences. She talked a lot about the different ups and downs of her internships. How in her downtime she'd ask a lot of questions, had coworkers quiz her on facts and such. How she was able to help people who didn't speak English. How in one instance, she may have saved somebody's life.
There was a personal history, and some personal stories. And that's all we needed. Not something we made up. And it was heartfelt. It was passionate. It was something the UCSF kids didn't have. And it was all true.
I didn't get to bed till twelve and a half last night. Slept like a baby. Slept past three snoozes on the iPhone. Woke up, got ready, and waited for my ride.
So I go to work, it's a Friday, spent a lot of time in my car to and from work. In traffic. Top down. Fuckin' felt great. I love my car. The freedom. The thrill. Even in stop and go traffic, just the visceral motions of shifting gears and breathing everything from the fresh summer air to the tired exhaust on 101 is liberating. Makes me feel one with the earth.
So I get home. Thought about what I wanted to do. Curled up in a ball in bed and passed out.
At 11:30 I get a call. It's Brian. He wants to go drinking. I roll out of bed and get dressed.
Pretty uneventful. I was so tired I skipped dinner, so I got an order of won ton mien at ABC cafe across the street from our regular watering hole and scarfed it down at the bar. One. Two. Three Heinekens. A game of pool. Slapping hands with a few friends and a few strangers. Watching the Food Network on a plasma screen, Giada was prancing around my old stomping grounds in New York. Watching New York on TV always gets me nostalgic. And before you know it, I'm home again.
Tomorrow I'm going camping. Not everybody that originally planned to go can make it, so I'm a little bummed about that. But it'll be good to sleep outside for a change. Have some good conversation, food, and booze. Borrowed a sleep mat and a cooler from a coworker. Went to REI to pick up a sleeping bag. It's just one night, so how bad can it be? You could go out into the wilderness buck nekkid for 24 hours with absolutely nothing and come out OK.
Spoken like a true city boy.
On the way home, driving through dark lanes of tree-lined traffic in Golden Gate Park, Brian keeps asking me if everything's OK. I guess I didn't feel super social tonight, especially after shaking off the cobwebs of a week filled with exhaustion to make it out for a few drinks. He asks me if I had a good time. I tell him yeah, of course. These days I don't have a lot of expectations for things. He says low expectations are a good thing.
Time and the glow of street lamps past midnight. The cold breath of fog that seems to permeate everything, the shadowy boughs of Monterrey cypress, the slick layer of dew brushed across the asphalt.
Sometimes there are nights of longing. Other times, there are nights of living. There's always a story, sometimes it's just a matter of fleshing it out and writing it down.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Day 7
Start time: 6:57AM
Finish time: 7:09AM
Total time: 12 min
Distance: 4 blocks (1.6 mi)
Avg min/mi: 8
Avg mi/hr: 7.5
Approx. calories burned: 212
Notes: Short run today. Decided to pick up the pace a bit. A little sore in the first lap or two, could probably have used an extra day of rest. Still, not bad results. May want to vary days where I test my endurance with days where I test my speed.
Finish time: 7:09AM
Total time: 12 min
Distance: 4 blocks (1.6 mi)
Avg min/mi: 8
Avg mi/hr: 7.5
Approx. calories burned: 212
Notes: Short run today. Decided to pick up the pace a bit. A little sore in the first lap or two, could probably have used an extra day of rest. Still, not bad results. May want to vary days where I test my endurance with days where I test my speed.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
What a day.
Things started well, and they ended alright. Had a few hiccups in the middle. But all things considered, I guess today was a good day.
- Meeting with AT&T went well.
- Meeting with the execs was alright. I didn't have that much to say since I was brought into the project late, but I have things under control.
- Meeting with another exec and my boss on a project—where the ball is definitely in my court—went well, though we still have our work cut out for us.
While asking a coworker a question, the exec from my last meeting points his thumb at me and says to him, "Man this guy is really fast. He was able to do in a quick turn around what we were sitting on for months."
I know it doesn't take a lot for somebody to give a quick compliment. But when I hear it from a higher up, it always makes my day.
That said, Betts got her very first ding today. It's a dimple on the side skirt about the size of marble. I don't know where it came from, and fortunately the paint isn't scratched. But I feel it man. Right in my heart.
Camping this weekend, anybody?
- Meeting with AT&T went well.
- Meeting with the execs was alright. I didn't have that much to say since I was brought into the project late, but I have things under control.
- Meeting with another exec and my boss on a project—where the ball is definitely in my court—went well, though we still have our work cut out for us.
While asking a coworker a question, the exec from my last meeting points his thumb at me and says to him, "Man this guy is really fast. He was able to do in a quick turn around what we were sitting on for months."
I know it doesn't take a lot for somebody to give a quick compliment. But when I hear it from a higher up, it always makes my day.
That said, Betts got her very first ding today. It's a dimple on the side skirt about the size of marble. I don't know where it came from, and fortunately the paint isn't scratched. But I feel it man. Right in my heart.
Camping this weekend, anybody?
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
John Campbell's Irish Bakery, team building, and my microlaptop.
I've been giving a lot of thought lately to my position at work. When I was working at AdAsia, I was still pretty young and inexperienced. Sure, I was a native English speaker, so that was a major plus. But overall I had a lot to learn. And my creative directors always cut me some slack to that end.
Now, things are a little different. I'm not junior anymore, and I have solid experience under my belt. I understand core messaging and how to execute it. I know how to find the heart of an idea and exploit it through language. Sometimes it's like a puzzle, once you know how it works, get the general shape or idea of what it is you're building, that helps you go a long way in realizing the entire picture.
So the other day I took a friend's suggestion to try out John Campbell's Irish Bakery. They're apparently well known for their scones, but it turns out they have a lot of different things, from cookies, to pork pies, to brown bread, to beef pasties. Whether you're looking for sweet, savory, or staple, they got it.
Over the weekend, I picked some up for my family and they loved it. I thought it would be a good idea to pick some some scones today for the refugee camp at the office. They also loved it. I guess sometimes it's cool to bring something to work that isn't so work related. People love treats, so why not?
Sometimes it's the little things like that that help build trust and open opportunities to be a leader. Sure, maybe scones won't solve the world's problems. But it can make for a happier workplace. And I'll need some of that tomorrow with a few big projects I'm presenting. I've been working on a project with AT&T that's pretty huge. And I'm writing a script tomorrow on a tight schedule that the execs, including the CEO, are going to critique.
But to be honest, our timelines are so short that I'm too busy to be nervous. Tomorrow I'm just going to buckle down and do what I know how to do. And I'm sure everything will be just fine.
I'm pretty beat. I was up at 6:15 or so, no alarm clock necessary, before taking my run. I think about time and how it passes, and sometimes I want it to go by faster, so I can get to a better place.
So I'm writing this entry on my microlaptop which consists of a bluetooth keyboard and my iPhone 4. And it's actually working out quite nicely. I don't need to lug around an entire laptop, and I can get all my typing done in relative comfort.
Hey, I never said I wasn't a geek.
Now, things are a little different. I'm not junior anymore, and I have solid experience under my belt. I understand core messaging and how to execute it. I know how to find the heart of an idea and exploit it through language. Sometimes it's like a puzzle, once you know how it works, get the general shape or idea of what it is you're building, that helps you go a long way in realizing the entire picture.
So the other day I took a friend's suggestion to try out John Campbell's Irish Bakery. They're apparently well known for their scones, but it turns out they have a lot of different things, from cookies, to pork pies, to brown bread, to beef pasties. Whether you're looking for sweet, savory, or staple, they got it.
Over the weekend, I picked some up for my family and they loved it. I thought it would be a good idea to pick some some scones today for the refugee camp at the office. They also loved it. I guess sometimes it's cool to bring something to work that isn't so work related. People love treats, so why not?
Sometimes it's the little things like that that help build trust and open opportunities to be a leader. Sure, maybe scones won't solve the world's problems. But it can make for a happier workplace. And I'll need some of that tomorrow with a few big projects I'm presenting. I've been working on a project with AT&T that's pretty huge. And I'm writing a script tomorrow on a tight schedule that the execs, including the CEO, are going to critique.
But to be honest, our timelines are so short that I'm too busy to be nervous. Tomorrow I'm just going to buckle down and do what I know how to do. And I'm sure everything will be just fine.
I'm pretty beat. I was up at 6:15 or so, no alarm clock necessary, before taking my run. I think about time and how it passes, and sometimes I want it to go by faster, so I can get to a better place.
So I'm writing this entry on my microlaptop which consists of a bluetooth keyboard and my iPhone 4. And it's actually working out quite nicely. I don't need to lug around an entire laptop, and I can get all my typing done in relative comfort.
Hey, I never said I wasn't a geek.
Old Spice and Für Elise
I was chatting with a friend today. He's always got this pipe dream of opening up our own advertising agency. He wants to call it Kuo and Lee. Which is a bit ironic since the CEO of the agency I worked at in New York was the Lee of Kang and Lee, one of the nations largest Asian American ad agencies.
Anyway, he was talking about how we could do so much better than Agencies like Weiden + Kennedy. And then we started talking about Old Spice. W+K did that recent kick-ass viral YouTube campaign with the Old Spice guy giving personalized responses to Tweeters. Loved it.
* * *
Somehow all this talk got me thinking about Old Spice. I remember being a kid, at the age when you learn to climb things like toilets and bathroom sinks, and start exploring the medicine cabinet. I remember my dad's bottle of Old Spice. It smelled good. Something about it was warm and tingly.
I also remember my dad's silver watch in the linnen closet. It was digital, and everyday at 12:00pm it would play Für Elise. I also thought that was beautiful. When I would hear it, I'd hold it and listen to the entire tune until it finished.
My dad wasn't always the easiest person to have as a dad. And as a kid, you like fun and interesting things, like a bottle of aftershave, or a silver watch with an electronic alarm. And I still loved my dad, even if he wasn't always the easiest dad to love. And thinking back to those times, holding onto my dad's stuff, there was something magical about it.
Anyway, he was talking about how we could do so much better than Agencies like Weiden + Kennedy. And then we started talking about Old Spice. W+K did that recent kick-ass viral YouTube campaign with the Old Spice guy giving personalized responses to Tweeters. Loved it.
* * *
Somehow all this talk got me thinking about Old Spice. I remember being a kid, at the age when you learn to climb things like toilets and bathroom sinks, and start exploring the medicine cabinet. I remember my dad's bottle of Old Spice. It smelled good. Something about it was warm and tingly.
I also remember my dad's silver watch in the linnen closet. It was digital, and everyday at 12:00pm it would play Für Elise. I also thought that was beautiful. When I would hear it, I'd hold it and listen to the entire tune until it finished.
My dad wasn't always the easiest person to have as a dad. And as a kid, you like fun and interesting things, like a bottle of aftershave, or a silver watch with an electronic alarm. And I still loved my dad, even if he wasn't always the easiest dad to love. And thinking back to those times, holding onto my dad's stuff, there was something magical about it.
Day 6
Start time: 6:44AM
Finish time: 7:28AM
Total time: 44 min
Distance: 12 blocks (4.8 mi)
Avg min/mi: 9.16
Avg mi/hr: 6.55
Approx. calories burned: 645
Notes: On two days rest. Felt great today. Little kinks here and there, but was able to run everything off. Originally planned to eclipse 10 blocks, but at 9, decided I had enough energy to run two more. Increased pace last two laps, but no finishing sprint today. Not sure if it's worth running longer distances at the expense of longer mornings and longer recovery time. Three miles every day is probably better than 6 miles every three days. But considering I doubled my distance in under two weeks, starting from nothing, I think I have quite a ways to go before I maximize my potential.
Finish time: 7:28AM
Total time: 44 min
Distance: 12 blocks (4.8 mi)
Avg min/mi: 9.16
Avg mi/hr: 6.55
Approx. calories burned: 645
Notes: On two days rest. Felt great today. Little kinks here and there, but was able to run everything off. Originally planned to eclipse 10 blocks, but at 9, decided I had enough energy to run two more. Increased pace last two laps, but no finishing sprint today. Not sure if it's worth running longer distances at the expense of longer mornings and longer recovery time. Three miles every day is probably better than 6 miles every three days. But considering I doubled my distance in under two weeks, starting from nothing, I think I have quite a ways to go before I maximize my potential.
Monday, July 19, 2010
My day off is coming to an end.
And it wasn't much of one. Did some work. Chatted with coworkers. Relaxed and listen to folk music all day. Wrote a couple of poems. Day's not completely over, may have another drink with Ryan later. Should probably get some food in me too, though I'm not all that hungry yet.
Sometimes I just need time to ride things out. Sometimes I have my moments where I'm super-productive, I buckle down and knock shit out of the park. Other times, I need some time to let my mind breathe, when I just need to relax and slow things down.
* * *
My neighborhood is a pretty cool place. When I'm super hungry, I can always walk down to Gordo's and get a burrito and get super-full for five bucks. There's also Sakura Sushi across the street. Ordered take-out so many times from there, that the owner knows me, sometimes gives me a hot bottle of sake on the house while I'm waiting. The waitress knows me by first name. Good people.
Lately I've been walking to Nags Head. It's the quasi-halfway point between Ryan's place and mine. We can have a decent drink, the bartenders are cute, and they always make sure they pour us our money's worth. Sure, it's a dive. But it's as good a place as any to relax and unwind when you don't feel like doing any thinking.
There are other cool things too, just the sheer number of restaurants, and the fact that the beach is four blocks away, is all pretty nice. It's also in the shadow of my old high school, which is kinda weird. I guess I'm really one of the guys from the neighborhood if there is such a thing. It's kinda crazy to think that Sharon Stone and Robin Williams only live a few blocks from here, cause really, if you're familiar with the Outer Richmond, it ain't all that.
Hanging out in Potrero Hill the other day was a different experience entirely. On the one hand, it's a really hip and cool spot, there are a lot of really cool restaurants, boutiques, and coffee shops. On the other, it can be pretty cruel out there. There are a few housing projects that keep the neighborhood humble. And for my couple of friends that are used to living in the area, you just have to expect to have your car broken into every now and then, even if they don't take anything.
If there was any takeaway from hanging out in Potrero Hill was just that. It's not a sheltered neighborhood. That's part of what makes it cool, the people there aren't your typical pretentious type that are there just to chase a scene. And it feels like the way a San Francisco neighborhood should seem. Like an Edward Hopper painting, angled rooftops and yellow light, turned on its head. Crazy hills. Interesting people.
* * *
Making the most of things. I've always said that people grow the most after a break-up. I've also said that passion is the currency of life, that when you're down and out, you can either wallow in self-pity or use that energy to your advantage. In the past that meant writing voraciously in my blog, and doing my Forrest Gump thing and training for the Bay to Breakers.
This time, I think it's gonna be somewhat the same, and a little different. I a lot of this past weekend with my folks. And I mean, it's hard. Sometimes I see them make a lot of decisions, that to my core, I just don't agree with. On the other hand, they are my family. And I know they like it when I'm around. And there's my niece, she's hilarious. She said matter of factly that she's a princess and that she's going to marry me.
Another thing I've always said, and I know this is super-hypocritical, is that when a person talks bad about their family, they're usually talking bad about themselves, that any shame and distance they try to put between themselves and their family members, can be seen as an expression of one's own personal shame. In other words, loving your family is a way of loving yourself. Maybe I have to get back to doing both.
* * *
I was telling a friend the other day that there's such a huge disconnect from how we think life is supposed to be like growing up, and how life really is when we get there. That often people, including ourselves, and situations, whether it's love, career, etc., don't fit the archetypes of what we expect them to be, and it makes us rethink our choices both past and future.
If there's anything else that I've always said, it's that there's more gain to life by building in the positive than dwelling on the negative. Even if our emotions sometimes tries to persuade us to do otherwise.
That's a good place to end this post, yah?
Sometimes I just need time to ride things out. Sometimes I have my moments where I'm super-productive, I buckle down and knock shit out of the park. Other times, I need some time to let my mind breathe, when I just need to relax and slow things down.
* * *
My neighborhood is a pretty cool place. When I'm super hungry, I can always walk down to Gordo's and get a burrito and get super-full for five bucks. There's also Sakura Sushi across the street. Ordered take-out so many times from there, that the owner knows me, sometimes gives me a hot bottle of sake on the house while I'm waiting. The waitress knows me by first name. Good people.
Lately I've been walking to Nags Head. It's the quasi-halfway point between Ryan's place and mine. We can have a decent drink, the bartenders are cute, and they always make sure they pour us our money's worth. Sure, it's a dive. But it's as good a place as any to relax and unwind when you don't feel like doing any thinking.
There are other cool things too, just the sheer number of restaurants, and the fact that the beach is four blocks away, is all pretty nice. It's also in the shadow of my old high school, which is kinda weird. I guess I'm really one of the guys from the neighborhood if there is such a thing. It's kinda crazy to think that Sharon Stone and Robin Williams only live a few blocks from here, cause really, if you're familiar with the Outer Richmond, it ain't all that.
Hanging out in Potrero Hill the other day was a different experience entirely. On the one hand, it's a really hip and cool spot, there are a lot of really cool restaurants, boutiques, and coffee shops. On the other, it can be pretty cruel out there. There are a few housing projects that keep the neighborhood humble. And for my couple of friends that are used to living in the area, you just have to expect to have your car broken into every now and then, even if they don't take anything.
If there was any takeaway from hanging out in Potrero Hill was just that. It's not a sheltered neighborhood. That's part of what makes it cool, the people there aren't your typical pretentious type that are there just to chase a scene. And it feels like the way a San Francisco neighborhood should seem. Like an Edward Hopper painting, angled rooftops and yellow light, turned on its head. Crazy hills. Interesting people.
* * *
Making the most of things. I've always said that people grow the most after a break-up. I've also said that passion is the currency of life, that when you're down and out, you can either wallow in self-pity or use that energy to your advantage. In the past that meant writing voraciously in my blog, and doing my Forrest Gump thing and training for the Bay to Breakers.
This time, I think it's gonna be somewhat the same, and a little different. I a lot of this past weekend with my folks. And I mean, it's hard. Sometimes I see them make a lot of decisions, that to my core, I just don't agree with. On the other hand, they are my family. And I know they like it when I'm around. And there's my niece, she's hilarious. She said matter of factly that she's a princess and that she's going to marry me.
Another thing I've always said, and I know this is super-hypocritical, is that when a person talks bad about their family, they're usually talking bad about themselves, that any shame and distance they try to put between themselves and their family members, can be seen as an expression of one's own personal shame. In other words, loving your family is a way of loving yourself. Maybe I have to get back to doing both.
* * *
I was telling a friend the other day that there's such a huge disconnect from how we think life is supposed to be like growing up, and how life really is when we get there. That often people, including ourselves, and situations, whether it's love, career, etc., don't fit the archetypes of what we expect them to be, and it makes us rethink our choices both past and future.
If there's anything else that I've always said, it's that there's more gain to life by building in the positive than dwelling on the negative. Even if our emotions sometimes tries to persuade us to do otherwise.
That's a good place to end this post, yah?
Summer, colors, and sleep.
Pink blush. Peach sky. Iridescent clouds,
brilliant, like cascading colors
on the inside of a seashell. Orange light,
the sunset in your eyes, drawing highlighted
streaks in your hair, glass of iced tea.
Faded t-shirts, bubblegum and pistachio.
Jeans at the cuffs, losing their dye,
falling apart, wild sun-bleached fetlocks.
Flowers and perspiration. The scent
of tree bark roasting under the summer sun.
One hand over the other, leaves piled
in the shade, two pillows on a couch,
two murmuring voices whispering to sleep.
A rest. An exhale. Then, drawing in time
the way receding waves draw into the sand,
every grain, another dream, another memory.
Crickets. A bow slides across its strings.
Bodies shift like mice in a burrow.
Moments crossover, one over another,
and descends into a foggy mist of peace.
brilliant, like cascading colors
on the inside of a seashell. Orange light,
the sunset in your eyes, drawing highlighted
streaks in your hair, glass of iced tea.
Faded t-shirts, bubblegum and pistachio.
Jeans at the cuffs, losing their dye,
falling apart, wild sun-bleached fetlocks.
Flowers and perspiration. The scent
of tree bark roasting under the summer sun.
One hand over the other, leaves piled
in the shade, two pillows on a couch,
two murmuring voices whispering to sleep.
A rest. An exhale. Then, drawing in time
the way receding waves draw into the sand,
every grain, another dream, another memory.
Crickets. A bow slides across its strings.
Bodies shift like mice in a burrow.
Moments crossover, one over another,
and descends into a foggy mist of peace.
Listening to folk music.
Chilling forgetfulness. How heat
escapes the heart, traces arteries
in tingling surges, escapes
the fingertips. This is how the mind
divides itself from layers of love,
sheds the energy of memories
like brilliant specks of dust catching
sunlight before they're forgotten.
How moments fade with time. The specific
nuances. The clothes you wear. The meal
you eat beforehand. What scent you wear.
The time flashing on an LED screen.
The number of breaths it takes before
you say it. Before the strings are cut
and the moment drifts. Oh, sour heart!
Douse the flames in whiskey, warm snifter
clocked against varnished wood.
A quiet voice drifts along chords strummed
on metallic strings that stoke my memory.
Even though the voice doesn't belong to you.
escapes the heart, traces arteries
in tingling surges, escapes
the fingertips. This is how the mind
divides itself from layers of love,
sheds the energy of memories
like brilliant specks of dust catching
sunlight before they're forgotten.
How moments fade with time. The specific
nuances. The clothes you wear. The meal
you eat beforehand. What scent you wear.
The time flashing on an LED screen.
The number of breaths it takes before
you say it. Before the strings are cut
and the moment drifts. Oh, sour heart!
Douse the flames in whiskey, warm snifter
clocked against varnished wood.
A quiet voice drifts along chords strummed
on metallic strings that stoke my memory.
Even though the voice doesn't belong to you.
Not bad for a Monday.
I took the day off today, but it still looks like I'm going to do a little work from home for a couple of last minute projects that came in.
Woke up feeling refreshingly sore from yesterday's work out. Picked up some milk from the supermarket, a pork pastry from John Campbell's, and a half pound of espresso beans from Peet's.
It's still pretty early. And I look forward to the rest of the week.
Woke up feeling refreshingly sore from yesterday's work out. Picked up some milk from the supermarket, a pork pastry from John Campbell's, and a half pound of espresso beans from Peet's.
It's still pretty early. And I look forward to the rest of the week.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
My commute.
Through the streets, through Golden Gate Park.
Monterrey cypress, ashy boughs, like overcoats,
hunch over in the rain. Along 19th Avenue,
homes stack like books on a crooked staircase,
raked by a ruby rash of brake lights and stop lights.
Students gush from bus exits like cars pouring
off an offramp. The steel sky and asphalt are one.
My fingers grip my leather-wrapped steering wheel,
as I shift the weight in my wrist, the cha-cha-cha
from 4th, to 5th, to 6th, my soul lifts,
slipping through traffic like sea by a sturgeon,
cutting up lanes like a scalpel and surgeon,
overtaking convoys like a guerilla insurgent,
it's winning an argument, they never get a word in;
Fuck waiting. Fuck traffic. And fuck the world
of work hard and no play. I burst open lanes on 280.
The overcast clouds peel back like rusty a tin can,
sweet sunlight drenches the open highway
like a fistful of honey. Sure, it's a thrill money
can buy, a dash of skill to make the time fly by,
and a joy my commute is two hours too short.
Monterrey cypress, ashy boughs, like overcoats,
hunch over in the rain. Along 19th Avenue,
homes stack like books on a crooked staircase,
raked by a ruby rash of brake lights and stop lights.
Students gush from bus exits like cars pouring
off an offramp. The steel sky and asphalt are one.
My fingers grip my leather-wrapped steering wheel,
as I shift the weight in my wrist, the cha-cha-cha
from 4th, to 5th, to 6th, my soul lifts,
slipping through traffic like sea by a sturgeon,
cutting up lanes like a scalpel and surgeon,
overtaking convoys like a guerilla insurgent,
it's winning an argument, they never get a word in;
Fuck waiting. Fuck traffic. And fuck the world
of work hard and no play. I burst open lanes on 280.
The overcast clouds peel back like rusty a tin can,
sweet sunlight drenches the open highway
like a fistful of honey. Sure, it's a thrill money
can buy, a dash of skill to make the time fly by,
and a joy my commute is two hours too short.
A fresh start.
Back online. Took my old posts and archived them. Then deleted them. Consider this volume 2.
Over the past couple of months, I've had to take a close look at my life. I don't have any immediate conclusions, aside from the fact that I still have a lot of growing up to do.
New doors open. Other doors close.
It's a bad case of earthquake weather today. Slightly overcast. A little too warm. A little too humid.
Anyway, despite all the crazy things going on, there have been a couple of awesome bright spots.
- Last week, got to hang out with Belline. I hardly ever get to see her, and since she's probably staying in North Carolina next summer, there's a good chance I won't see her for another couple years.
- Also got to hang out with Penny in Potrero Hill. Never really hung out on that side of town. I do think it's one of the cooler places in the city to chill.
- Getting to know some of the people at work a little better. I like all the people sitting in the dinky six-cube configuration I call "The Refugee Camp," and I set up a lunch a couple of weeks ago that went really well. I also got a carpool buddy, so Betts can relax a little.
- Been hanging out with my family a little more lately. Sure, we don't always get along. But I think we do genuinely enjoy the little time we spend together.
- I've been hitting the streets again, running. Yesterday morning I made it up to 4 miles non-stop. Can I stretch that to 6 miles? 10 miles? I'd like to find out.
- And yes, I love my car. Even if Betts is giving me a farmer's tan.
I think if I have any goals for this time around, I want to keep track of all the positive things going on in my life, so I can build on them. I also want to get back to writing a little poetry, too.
Enjoy.
Over the past couple of months, I've had to take a close look at my life. I don't have any immediate conclusions, aside from the fact that I still have a lot of growing up to do.
New doors open. Other doors close.
It's a bad case of earthquake weather today. Slightly overcast. A little too warm. A little too humid.
Anyway, despite all the crazy things going on, there have been a couple of awesome bright spots.
- Last week, got to hang out with Belline. I hardly ever get to see her, and since she's probably staying in North Carolina next summer, there's a good chance I won't see her for another couple years.
- Also got to hang out with Penny in Potrero Hill. Never really hung out on that side of town. I do think it's one of the cooler places in the city to chill.
- Getting to know some of the people at work a little better. I like all the people sitting in the dinky six-cube configuration I call "The Refugee Camp," and I set up a lunch a couple of weeks ago that went really well. I also got a carpool buddy, so Betts can relax a little.
- Been hanging out with my family a little more lately. Sure, we don't always get along. But I think we do genuinely enjoy the little time we spend together.
- I've been hitting the streets again, running. Yesterday morning I made it up to 4 miles non-stop. Can I stretch that to 6 miles? 10 miles? I'd like to find out.
- And yes, I love my car. Even if Betts is giving me a farmer's tan.
I think if I have any goals for this time around, I want to keep track of all the positive things going on in my life, so I can build on them. I also want to get back to writing a little poetry, too.
Enjoy.
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