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May-30-09 | 5:48 pm |
As we grow older we are shown how people interact within a relationship. We are given the tiny scraps of a gorgeous, torn-up libretto. We piece together simple passages and learn to sing them for ourselves. We venture out and learn to sing them to those that we profess to love. We do our best. |
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May-05-09 | 6:59 pm |
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Jan-25-09 | 11:02 am |
I am currently in the early stages of Mento-Pause. I am experiencing hot flashes, happiness, sadness, discomfort, and the prevailing fear that I am at the apex of all that is that I have ever done is cool and now in the past. It is both a glorious and depressing moment that is best remembered by the ever simple hand gesture and pause. I believe another such moment will come again... but one must wonder if they have mistakenly crested and are now on the steep, painful decline to irrelevancy. One can only hope for future glories. Your honor, I humbly bring these before the court: |
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Jan-06-09 | 12:15 am |
I am jumping ship. |
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Jan-04-09 | 11:28 pm |
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Dec-31-08 | 11:00 am |
1. Create an article that is a numbered bulleted-point list related to the topic. a. The article title itself gets the mind of the reader started on the topic. Likely the reader will actually start filling in what they think is on that list. "Three things you should never forget..." or "Ten best movies...", the reader likely has their own set of answers or can probably think of most of them. Now the reader needs to read the article to see if they guessed correctly or to see what they are missing. b. Articles with numbered bullet points set the expectation of the length. If the article states the "Top 5 reasons...", as a reader I expect there to be an article with five points with perhaps an introduction and conclusion. In other articles I am not afforded something like this save a possible listing of a word count (which I don't believe gives a good representation). c. These articles are almost always drivel. After you've read the article you often leave with a sense of nothing gained. It is all common-sense. But again your expectations were met and you have likely expended the exact imagined effort. A slight feeling of satisfaction tempers this bad taste knowing that you scored well in the little guessing game (a la Family Feud). Ultimately leaving you ripe to fall for it again. |
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Aug-22-08 | 7:09 pm |
I run Vista at home and XP at the office. At work I missed the ability to search and launch applications so I installed Google Desktop (Also XP file find was failing to deliever). But there were two lacking components with Google Desktop that I wanted to augment to improve usability. Ctrl+Ctrl Hotkey While Ctrl+Ctrl was an acceptable way of launching Google Desktop I thought that there were times where I would like to use an alternate hot key combination. I was not able to quickly replicate the double key press I wrote it so you can define a different shortcut key. Changing States Google Desktop has three states: Launch Desktop; Search Desktop; and Search Web. Most of the time I wanted to launch an application by default, the rest of the time I wanted to search the web, and rarely seek things on the hard-drive. So I set up the ability to specify a hot key for each of the states, saving me a few key strokes. Requirements Google Desktop must be installed. Changing states requires access to registry keys for the Google application it likely requires power user/administrator access. |
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Aug-07-08 | 8:52 am |
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Aug-04-08 | 3:33 pm |
 I purchased a new iPhone and then sat down to write an application to let me make my own ring tones. RingRing lets Windows users create ring tones from MP3 files quickly and easily for free (I found a number of options to have me pay). I thought that I would share it with the rest of the world that was disappointed to find out that making ring tones A) costs money per ring tone and b) could only be down for the files that you purchased from iTunes. Download RingRing! |
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Jun-21-08 | 7:55 pm |
 Purchased a Wii from a friend. Immediately updated and installed Pokemon Ranch. I run it very similar to the Gabriel Method. One step above prison, one step below a concentration camp. It's more like a Pokemon Internment camp or Reform School for Girls. The showers are cold and the time working in the fields, providing me amusement, is close to the hours in the day. You even have an option to slave trade recently captured fresh meat to the Warden for some of her prize pieces of sweet Poke-ass. Purchased a book to learn guitar. Instead of relying solely on the Internet. I don't particularly want to spend the money on lessons until I'm at a point where I feel like I could gain something -- of course, that is probably long after I've developed a lot of bad habits. The weather has turned nice and I've taken to biking more during the week. I start work on Monday. I have a mild addiction to purchasing games. If I see a used version, coupled with a coupon, coupled with some trade-ins I find myself unable to say no to buying. Picked up: The World Ends With You (DS); Crosswords (DS); Pokemon Mystery Dungeon (DS); Brain Age 2 (DS); Summon Night: Twin Age (DS); Crosswords: New York Times (DS); Pokemon Ranch (Wii); Mario Kart (Wii); Fire Emblem (Wii); Castlevania (PSP); God of War: Chains of Olympus (PSP); and Metal Slug (PSP). Save for Brain Age 2 and Crosswords ($20 each) I haven't paid full price for any of the games. However, I still think it's excessive particularly because I find myself spending a good amount of time still playing Warcraft 3: Frozen Throne (since Scott mentioned it) and the occasional match or two of Team Fortress 2 while all the while trying to convince myself to get back into World of Warcraft. |
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May-30-08 | 4:08 pm |
Unsurprisingly, I felt it was coming soon. The project that was continually postponed. Work was always coming next week. I have this last week of pay and a little savings. I have some prospects but I'm always interested in suggestions. |
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May-30-08 | 11:55 am |
Tears streaming, |
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May-29-08 | 1:51 pm |
Indelibly I drank deep the presence of her. I remembered my eyes finding her there in the cold light of the morning. I closed them again and groped for her with my lips. I slid my lips across facial facets until I found hers only to have started their own blind journey. Sightless, her face wedged itself under mine. Wordless, there she breathed heavy and hot against my cool exposed skin of my neck. Our bodies glacially wedged me upward on top of her. My length pressed in and writhed against her length. Breathless, we slid into each other. Until I was done. I retreated. Rolled to her side and burrowed my arm under the nape of her neck. Her head reflexively came in close to my shoulder. Her thigh slid in against my thigh. Her impenetrable dark mass of freshly-fucked curled into my nostrils. I inhaled deep and felt my chest burst open. I exhaled and felt the expulsion of my spirit. It ascended above my mirthful corpse. I am survived by a passion that I hoped the world had come to know. |
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May-21-08 | 5:11 pm |
 We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be. -Kurt Vonnegut Last night ended the 201 series of Improvisational Acting instruction at Jet City. I passed. I did not study for the final exam, the showcase this past Sunday. Preparation involved me waking up at 3PM, eating a bowl of cereal, and taking a shower. A large number of attendees packed the theater. It was appreciative and quite possibly enabling - we had reached success. While my 'corner', Martha and Lisa, fit the featherweight category, they more than made up for it with their suggestions' sting: Airplanes; Sex Kittens; and Bloody Sock. I participated in three events. When I receive a copy of the performance I will likely YouTube it. The first event the four of us regaled the audience with a story about an airplane attendant in a declining market that later went on to open her own airline service. Serving all-you-can-eat peanuts and eventually manufacturing her planes out of large peanuts made of penguin feces. The second event I hammed up quite a bit. Taking the initiative to lay out first on the beach I barked for my mimosa. What entailed was a brief spat between lovers, a waitress serving and insulting me, some authority figure bringing a close to my drinking, and then a quick escape as my lover parted the ocean with a fun dance. The third event I said one serious line that immediately got a laugh. I was sent to the end of the line. I will miss my cohort of performers. We will likely never fill the same space again in our lifetimes. And while I am not immediately feeling sappy, there is a strong sense that I will never forget the energy we created from our improvisational friction. They were by far, exquisite people to take the stage with that night. I told myself: It was 'a' performance, not 'the' performance. As my future has more in store for me. |
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May-19-08 | 10:08 am |
I am driven in life by the discomfort that I feel within a moment. Discomfort acts as an indicator, in most cases, that I have reached a precipice. A moment where I have comprehended an end condition, but have not found the thoughts, actions, or confidence in both to reach it. |
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May-07-08 | 10:19 am |
It might be presumptuous to say that I am doing Bad Improv but it is really starting to feel like it. This is actually positive because previously I was doing Worse Improv. At the start I was not emotional invested in my performances. It was about having fun. I was there to play games. Simply understanding the rules of the game were enough to warrant a job well done in my mind. I had some loosely defined fears related to being funny/not-funny and that showed. I remember when I took the stage that I moved quickly, talked too fast, and did not often commit to characters, their actions, and reactions. But it wasn't until I had participated in a few scenes and started to gain a greater understanding of what was required of a successful scene that I began to become more hesitant in my choices. Coming to understand the criteria made me conscience about what I failed to include in the scene: strong character choice; complimentary emotion; complimentary status; listening but not reacting to my partner; conflict; piggybacking on their "yes, ands..." and not returning more to them; etc. To confound things, I coupled all of that with the requirement "to be funny" when I took the stage. The success of a exercise often felt more well done when people laughed. Now I've stopped. I am relieved to have reached this point. Disconnecting some of my ties to the "funny" has made me in some ways more present in the moment. Allowing me to close some of that gap between when my brain develops a preferable a course of action and when I open my mouth. It is less a matter of a censor and more of optimizing my filter. I am still not comfortable on stage. I am still not committing fully to the character, my partners, and the location. I'm still not... but at least I'm not uncomfortable when a laugh doesn't follow my work. I keep making mistakes. I need to make a whole lot more. With all that said, I'd like to invite you to see me at: Jet City Improv 201 ShowcaseSunday, May 18 at 7:00PM The Historic University Theater 5510 University Way NE Seattle, WA |
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Apr-30-08 | 9:56 am |
I sometimes play a game while I'm walking alone. I will close my eyes while continuing down the street and see how far I can make it before I open my eyes again. I try to trust my memory of the surroundings and the put trust in my other senses. I never get very far before I find myself with my eyes cracked slightly or completely open again. I am using a poor metaphor to illustrate this point. I don't trust myself. I could probably qualify that with: enough. But, to me, the qualification would reduce the resulting potency and the sense of urgency that arises within me. I was reminded of this recently when I read the document I mentioned previously. Reading the document brought a level of reassurance. There were concepts that supported in very general terms my thoughts, my ideas, and my experiences. I was amazed. However, after finishing my read through I felt sharply disappointed in myself. Why had I doubted myself as much as I did? Why did this reassurance feel so good? It is often a welcome sigh of relief when I push myself into new emotional and physical areas and find others there as well. But why? Why is it that I cannot stand alone? In all of my previous relationships I used reciprocation of physical gestures and verbal gestures to create a sense of reassurance. If I grabbed her hand and squeezed, not receiving a similar, timely squeeze back felt like there was a disconnect. I also was fearful of being the first to verbalize my feelings if I did not think that it would be shared by my partner. I was scared that I would stand alone, the fool. The Pick Up community refers to this as "Compliance Testing." Squeezing the hand and receiving a squeeze back means that you have compliance. It's a tool to gauge whether the perspective target is interested. You act, or proceed to other stages of interaction after you have established compliance. I have come to the conclusion that it is unnecessary and absolutely should be seen as a set of training wheels that one should immediately discard. My last relationship helped me verbalize my desires and remove a number of these expectations. An action became about what I wanted to convey and not a means to convey and generate a response. My desires, previously stated in the comfort of acceptance, were confidently given when they were felt. I felt lost at first, hopelessly groping in the darkness. But that feeling quickly subsided and I found my feet and saw the forest for the trees. My journey through life will hopefully lead me into more areas which are not charted, sparsely populated, and poorly lit. I need to trust myself. For certainly a mis-step outweighs the consequences of where inaction will find me; within the confines of an unfulfilled existence. Which in this Red Queen's race is most certainly a kind of death. |
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Apr-29-08 | 10:39 am |
Pretty Pasties Pastiche! was an amazing performance that I had the pleasure of attending this past Sunday. I situated myself close to the front and snapped a few photos throughout the evening. I've shared a number of them here. Though, I think that anyone in attendance would agree with me in saying that these pictures fail to capture the immensity of the beauty, glitter, and sequins. I showed up a bit in character for the whole affair and situated myself with the most spirited group of the bunch. Recent graduates of a burlesque class. While I'm apt to commit in other activities of my life, this was probably the first time during a performance where I really felt invested. There was some breakdown between that audience-performer barrier and the blood-born pathogen of excitement coursed through my veins. Compelling me to bang my fists, hoot, holler, and clap in an attempt to echo the charm of their amazing work. |
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Apr-21-08 | 10:26 pm |
I am often lulled asleep by the immensity of the details which weigh heavy on my life. It is in this ebb that I am nearly unreachable in an intellectual sense. A particular document was suggested to me that I had wholly ignored for a number of months. The gravity of the material, as it was described to me, did not seem relevant at that particular moment. The recent change in my life has given rise to a flow, allowing me the energies to reflect. Individualists often replace the focus on causality (past) and goals (future) of the Conscientious person with a fascination with the immediate present. They need to understand and watch how things unfold. Their focus turns from outcomes and deliverables to an interest in the processes, relationships and non-linear influences among variables. Individualists watch how they themselves and other people change and behave differently in different contexts. When I was younger I remember constantly being filled with regret when I did not act in accord with what I had hoped to accomplish. The moment of the now was the culmination of much forethought, the realization of a long laid plan. I would reflect on my actions in cases where I was both fortunate and unfortunate, with wistful longing. Now, I identify with the individualist. I only recently found myself describing, in similar terms, how I am able to maintain a positive outlook and minimize emotional discomfort. I will still peer into the past to find the perspective and emotion density to convey a compelling story with sincerity and intensity. But I am rarely, if ever regretful of my actions when I have been deliberate. I have recently started to minimize long, looks into the future even in the situations when an activity requiring a level of commitment of attendance, time, and energy (i.e. classes, work, responsibilities, and relationships) is involved. The latter change has been much more recent in my life. I have become accomplishing laid out plans by minimizing extraneous forethought related to these actions. I would previously arrange an event and then cancel because there was some low level anxiety associated with the task coupled with the enjoyment in the newly manufactured free-time, mental accounting, from the cancellation. This even bled into my ability to answer the phone - as I would often defer conversations out of some unknown dread. This was an important change and an area in which I most definitely needed growth and most likely still need growth. How do you handle the past, the present, and the future? |
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Apr-07-08 | 3:26 am |
In my youth, manic depression was explained to me, at best, as someone prone to "episodes" every two years. They were the equivalent of a modern day werewolf. Losing all control of their mental faculties, sociopaths, they would move through society committing base sexual acts, engaging in rampant spending, and violently attacking those that stood in their way. They would destroy everything of importance and value around them in that moment. Their life essentially reset biennially. It wasn't until later that I came to know depression not in these simplistic, after-school special terms. Depression is nefarious, insidious, and above all subtle. It is not enough that depression undermines the sufferer's self confidence. It successfully takes the life of the victim by eroding the very social structure of which they stand. Driving far stretched chasms between the sufferer and those closest to them. Destroying their best chances to recover, to balance. I stood with my wife in our union: Tall, strong and close. Before the end, I lay folded, weak, and staring her down across an immeasurable divide. I made a commitment and ultimately a great sacrifice. Even now when I type those words I feel as though they are hollow. I still feel as though there was more that I could have done. If I had been just a little more patient, a little more understanding, a little more loving, a little more... And that's how I fell under the monstrous gait of depression. My myopic view felt as though I could turn the tide of a great war through the small victories in our daily struggles. What I was doing was treating the symptoms and aiding and abetting behaviors that would later spell demise for recovery. Depression is a poisoning at the source. I feel strongly that depression parallels the horrors of an addiction. Addicts convincingly plead for another chance, more sympathy, more time, and more help. Those that constantly attempt to find the addict medical and psychiatric help are friends. Those that walk away are using strong language to show the addict all that they are losing, as a result of their choices, are teachers. Those that remain and find themselves literally sitting on their friends for weeks until they sober up are saviors. There are no heroes in depression. Those that seek medical and psychiatric treatment for them are the unjust. Those that leave are the selfish. Those that remain without making personal sacrifices are the uncaring. It is because every step can be doubted. Each choice feels as though it could be the wrong one. Depression is powerful because it feels so counter intuitive to fix. I lost myself. Many times previous I had felt the similar pull as if the bottom had fallen out, only to find my feet firmly planted. Now. This time. I could not feel my feet. I was falling. I started my battle with depression. A book I later read, described it as Depression Fallout. Likening the invisible, pervasive effects of depression to that of radiation is catchy and... accurate. I began to shutdown. I rebounded months later when acknowledgments were made to what was happening. There is so much hope returned when it seems as though the answers lay ahead. And they seemed like they did for some time. Clear skies in the distance grew cloudy, but by then we had returned enough of ourselves that we were able to make it out alive. The relationship, however, was dashed upon the rocks. Today, I fear depression's icky, dark tendrils more so than any amount of manifestation of horror. It is as if I have suffered through an ordeal of food poisoning and despite having my mental ability to stomach some of those tendencies in others returned to me, my body won't allow it. |
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