Yo Trolls and trouble-makers, this is not Live Journal. You are well on your way to 50 years old (if you think I don't know who you are, you are mistaken). So any comments personally attacking me with no merit on their own will be promptly removed.
I am all for open discussion, but when you go to the level of name calling in my house for no other reason to attack and make yourself or the person you are defending feel better, I'm going to kick you out.
That is all.
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I was going to keep quiet on this topic, because it's had
heated discussion on and off the blog, but here goes. There are always at least
two sides to the story and I'm not about to launch into the specifics of my
side, because it doesn't really matter.
What does matter, is the very real relief I now feel, now that I no longer have
the responsibility of Moki. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice dog and I have fun
with him - for optional short periods of time. But doing what I did, had me
drowning and when I started asking for help, people started throwing rocks, and
ok, I threw a few rocks myself, but they were rocks tied to my feet. That
doesn't make it right, but it does take two to fight. And I’m still human, or
else I wouldn’t be here on this earth. And my life is no less important than anyone
else’s.
The big learning lesson from this is about Limitations, one of the 2006
daggers. Knowing my limitations and standing by them. But when the whole
Moki thing started out, no end date was in sight, no limitation. I was too nice, accepting a burden
I was not really comfortable with, and then I thought I was doing the right thing and not
raise the my issues. (If you were any of my friends that I see on a regular basis, you would have known my real feelings on the matter back in January.) Wrong, wrong, wrong. I should have raised my concerns back in
January, when this all started. But here, I get to be taken to task for trying
to be helpful and failing. (Oh I'm sure you negative observers will be able to make this
out to whatever horrible idea you can come up with, but I'm being honest and
telling you directly what was going through my mind - and my (wrong) choice to
put someone else, in front of me.)
Anyway, even one night, I feel so much more relaxed and rested. It's like I
have been under this huge burden the past almost 3 months, the dog GTD item popping
up in my head constantly. Never never done. Constantly adding more and more to
my workload. I'm back to being only responsible for me, myself and the life I
want. I was stuck in quagmire.
Now, I can finally pick up some of the pieces that have fallen in the meantime.
It feels so good and refreshing.
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I just found my friend Kathryn's blog and was delighted to open it up and find a great post on fiddlehead ferns! I love fiddleheads (although not to eat, just to look at).
Last year I worked on a welding project for Burning Man where I was able to pick a design to laser cut into a fire cauldron. The design I picked was a fiddlehead.
If you share my delight check out her post with more pictures.
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I'm coordinating the Geek Dinner, the follow-up to the LA Barcamp.
If you interested in meeting fellow technologists in Los Angeles - or just passing through - get on this google group. Here are the specific details...
Logistics
When: Tuesday evening, April 18th at 8:00 pm
Where: The Electric Lotus, 4656 Franklin (entrance on Vermont) in Los Feliz
http://www.electriclotus.com/
RSVP: the sooner the better, but you MUST RSVP by Monday, April 17th at Noon
to attend. Please RSVP to geek (at) heathervescent (dot) com.
Electric Lotus is Indian and they can do vegan and veggie dishes. Come
prepared to pay for yourself as we don't have a sponsor.
What to expect:
This is an open forum to continue discussions from BarCamp. We're here to
share ideas and meet like minded geeks in Los Angeles. We're working on
getting a speaker to talk for 15-20 minutes. If you have a topic request or
would like to volunteer, let me know. Remember to bring biz cards or contact
info.
Please pass this invite to anyone you think would be interested and contact
me if you have any questions.
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I was going to write a long post on how my passover went, but my creative juices aren't flowing - plus it's a few days old. Needless to say, with about 3 hours notice I whipped up a seder dinner, including amazing from scratch brownies that rival my non-kosher ones. I must admit, I was pretty proud of myself. This entry, is just a reminder, to myself, of yet another way, I've kicked ass in 2006.
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Sam and I saw V for Vendetta the first weekend it opened and I've been meaning to write about it. I loved loved loved the movie and luckily for me, today I read Amanda's review of it and instead of writing my own, I can copy her words:
[W]hen I see a masked man in a movie whose appearance seems to come straight out of my imagination, who embodies things I loved as a girl, and fights for ideas I hold very close as an adult, I feel like dancing.
She also has some great still images. Read the rest of her review here. The part of the movie I mostly respected, was that they never took his mask off - even when there was the chance. This was a great movie and I highly highly recommend it to everyone.
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On time, in your mind you see
You gotta boogie to your best ability
You gotta funk it up until it knocks you down
And when you're funkin' up, be sure to pass it around
...
Jam on it
Jam on and on, on and on it
And if you're feelin' like you wanna dance all night
They go on ahead and flaunt it
- Newcleus, "Jam on it"
I've loved this song for over 20 years. When the breakdancing fad hit in the 80's my brother got a tape of classic breakdancing music and "Jam on it" was included. I wasn't interested in breakdancing, but I loved the wikki, wikki, wikki. I forgot about it for a decade and then found it again in DJ Z-trip's Uneasy Listening bootleg mash-up album on track 6. I heard it over the weekend at the Long Beach Grand Prix and this morning, I finally found it.
It's great to hear one of my childhood favorites in its entirety.
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I've been participating in this game called Streetwars. I've been a secret agent of the Shadow Government. I know, I haven't mentioned a peep on this site... that's because I'm sly and all that. But now, I come clean, and also this weekend is sudden death and the end of the first game in LA.
Here's a fun photo to enjoy - it was a rogue assassin massacre.
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A friend and I went to Panamint Valley last weekend and had an adventure - beyond the truck breakdown adventure. We went with a specific intent to make contact with one of the apprentices of Carlos Castanda: Nuri Alexander. I had never met Nuri, although my colleague had. I didn't have a connection with her, nor do I practice guru/teacher adulation. I've come to realize that we're all human beings here.
So we were not searching for a guru or a disciple of a guru. We decided to do this mission because we wanted to see what would happen, what we would find. _If_ we _could_ contact her. _If_ we could find the place she jumped from. And _if_ we succeeded, ask her some questions. We had focused intent, we did not want to fail, yet we understood the difficulty of our task at hand.
I was completely willing to accept not finding anything - just another adventure in Death Valley. But what we did end up experiencing is what anyone would expect when they throw themselves into an adventure with abandon, passion, energy and intention.
You can read about it in this post on Daily Mantra - which is where I try to do my metaphysical writing these days.
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Happy now? That's it. Reached the end of the rope. Or rather, the end of the rope was a while back... I was just pretending I was hanging on.
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I was about to give up.
A few days in the desert with a friend on a mission. We were successful. And
then, another "drama". S and I have just come down a treacherous 4
wheel only steep mountain path. We've spent a freezing night in the truck,
alternating wind rocking the suspension and absolute calm. Not only did we
survive, but our campfire, which we built on the edge of a precipice
overlooking the Panamint Valley, kept hot coals
hidden under ash until the morning.
We're on a dirt road, about 4 miles from the pavement and the truck stops - silent. Everything dead. No battery lights, no starter, nothing. Silence from the truck and the desert. We spend about an hour trying to swap out the battery, thinking it's the alternator/battery gone bad again. We practice patience and work the nuts that are cemented onto the old battery off and replace them on the new battery. Nothing. Still silence.
It's time to fill up the camelbacks with water, stuff as many energy bars as we have into our pockets and start to hike. Until we meet someone, or get cell service or hitchhike a ride. The clock in our first rides car reads 9:30am. We've had an early start. The second ride, we sit in the open bed of a pickup watching the air force jets above us do maneuvers. I'm not anxious. I'm not happy about the situation, but I know my immediate next steps. We get to the only phone in, I don't know, 40 miles or so, and make some phone calls. Wait. Wait. Wait for the next 5 hours.
The amazing boyfriend (who is most definately hands down, the best boyfriend in the universe) shows up, with gas and battery at 3:30pm and we head back out into the desert. We meet our off road friends on the way, and between the 8 of us, find a small wire that has been dislodged. When fixed, the vehicle still doesn't start. Everyone lines up behind the truck and starts to push, I engage the clutch and press down on the gas and the engine kicks on. I gas it harder and drive like the wind to the road. And eventually all the way back to Los Angeles just as it turns into Sunday.
Where I arrive to more water on the floor. The ceiling still in shambles. My car still smashed with no progress on confirming who hit it or when it can be fixed. And a time change that knocks me out of whack.
I'm stretched beyond my limits. I'm holding down, not only my anchor, but another’s. And it's definitely wearing on me. What do I do? I'm about to snap. I practice flexibility and fluidity constantly.
I was about to snap. But then I went and got the truck towed to the mechanic's, where it will get fixed eventually. Eventually the rain will stop and stop raining in my bedroom. Eventually I won't have to commute to see my boyfriend or give the dog three walks a day. Eventually I won't have to project manage my two insurance claims. Eventually I'll feel good about my writing and get to reviewing all these cool products I've found. Eventually, eventually, eventually. That's what I tell myself, because I'm about to give up, but there's really no reason to.
It’s like this road S and I drove up. If someone told us, we
couldn’t have gone up there, we wouldn’t have been able to. It’s true, the road
disappeared and we were literally driving up (and down) a mountain. You've seen it. That big one with lots of Strata, you can see it from Panamint Springs Resort. But no one
told us what we could do, and we did it anyway.
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Spring has sprung at the Future. Moki and I walk through the tall grass in the canyon. I watch the hawks in the sky. I see buds break into bloom on the trees. And I remember a year ago. The walks in the canyon with Gloria, our conversations, planning of projects both for the house, for our writing and livelihood. Most walks these days are alone - just the Moki dog and myself. Sam comes along sometimes if he has time before heading to work. I walk the same streets, climb the big stairs and remember how winded I used to get. I drag the Moki dog on long walks in the canyon. It's a give and take between exercise and sniff time.
Gloria and I used to often talk about the ways we'd improve the Future. Mosaic, murals, painting, planting, fountains, the tree house. Some of the projects we've completed (some mosaicing and painting) others are still to be done, like the mural on our wall. And then there are the ongoing projects, like the garden. A few weeks before she left for Italy, we spend a day or so cleaning the yard and doing some small planting. I have big plans for the gardens this year. (Shady terrace garden, front garden, side down garden.) And I've been trying to wait for Gloria to return before I start. But she is needed for more and more time, even though, I know that she would return in a heartbeat if she could.
Yesterday I could wait no longer. I've been mapping out the garden with ferns, Calla lillies, roses, purple daisies. I stopped by Home Depot yesterday and picked out a conservative (by my standards) number of plants. Three rose bushes, some Calla lillies, my absolute favorite tree ferns that I have fantasied about for years, sage and some other flowers.
They sky looked ominous, so Moki and I got right down to work. Plants were unloaded, gloves donned and garden tools plucked. We dug, plowed, furrowed and planted, pressed and gave the new plants a quick drink, before the sky opened up started to rain.
This morning, the roses had moist droplets on barely opened petals. I can't wait for the sun to come out, dry off the rain and warm them. And I hope they are in full bloom to greet Gloria when she finally walks through the gate.
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I've been a big fan of GTD since I got on it last year. I've always been an extremely organized person in work and life, but implementing GTD has allowed me to take my life to a different level. I keep track of the infrastructure of my life in my book, which allows my brain to think about exciting projects and possibilities and then my body executes on those ideas, which are later tracked in the book. It's a cycle of success that allows me to focus my laser beam attention on many diverse projects - and easily add new projects to the workload with minimal impact. (Um, like my ceiling falling in.)
Sunday morning, The Boyfriend (TB) is feeling stressed because he has so many projects in his head and feels like he doesn't have time to do any of them. Let alone pick which one he wants to work on. So I suggested that maybe it was the day to get him on GTD. (He's been interested about it since I went on it.) So Sunday afternoon we went through my bookcase of blank books and found one that was perfect for him. (It was a mini-moleskine.) I pulled out my stick-on tabs and we found a pen that he liked. In GTD, it's really important to have materials you like. Because if you like them, you'll use them. I took him on a tour of my book and we picked out categories for his book (Project list, @Computer, @Home, @Errands, Business, @Agenda and added a calendar that I printed off of Outlook). Then we started the brain dump.
I've never GTDed someone before, so this was really interesting to me. It was part conversation, part coach, part task-master, part psychologist. Personalizing GTD is important to its success. Part of that is figuring out HOW you think about projects. TB is very organized and has very specific ways of thinking about projects. Some of these ways worked very well with GTD - and other ways of thinking needed to be tweaked. The whole action list (@Computer, @Home, @Phone, etc) is a novel concept. Tasks and actions are not prioritized. They go on a single list.
We spent about an hour brain dumping his projects into the book and then picking a few to figure out the next actions for. Once we were finished he looked over the project list and said, "That's a manageable list." And I could see his relief in knowing what all his projects were and what he needed to do next to "get things done."
And that's a great feeling - knowing that all your ideas are in a safe place and available at any moment. Knowing that you don't have to actively think about each and every project, and more importantly, having the power to decide what you do and when - and not be motivated by fear and anxiety.
Save that, for when the ceiling falls in.
Photo is a picture of my GTD notebook. Complete with Heart's Challenger sticker.
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The Boyfriend and I were watching _The Island_ Tuesday night. The final climax of the movie was on the screen, where they're busting down the central command. Wheels are spinning, bridges are breaking and swinging. I've got the sound hooked up to my stereo system and my new speakers, so it's very clear. Then all of a sudden, we hear this crash and shock. Did it come from the movie? Or from the house? It sounded like something fell over. We jumped up and started to look around, but it wasn't until I went down into the lower level (my lair) that I found the source of the noise.
I found a mess of wet plaster, paint chips and sheet rock spewed all over my precious Persian rug and couch. When I looked up, wet insulation dripped and ragged edges of sheet rock were holding onto what was left of the ceiling by a bare piece of mesh tape. I'm thinking - oh great. Just what I need on top of continued dog duty, multi-house duty, various job duty, not to mention barely recovered from food poisoning, dealing with car hit and run drama. Let's add ceiling crashed down. At 11pm at night.
My only guess is that there was some leak in the roof that caused the whole area to get soaked and hold water until it collapsed. Now I get to deal with my insurance company some more. And I really love them these days.
If I look at this symbolically, it's an interesting sign. The ceiling's been blown out. There's nowhere to go but up. The sky is the limit. And I can deal with this all. And probably more. But universe, please, send some love my way. Cause I'm starting to feel like the left-out child. And I'm over here doing some serious heavy lifting and my arms are shaking and are you even noticing?
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I've been working on a new blog for a couple weeks and I'm finally
ready to unveil it to you. Let me introduce you to .... drum roll ....
Daily Mantra. Daily Mantra is a metaphysical blog. I'm still trying to
get the voice and to do that, I need YOUR INTERACTION. So please, go on
over and check it out. Post a comment. Tell me if you like something, or you think something is crap.
I'm covering interesting metaphysical news and topics, while keeping my feet on the ground. Let me know what you think!
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Universal challenges on both sides of the spring equinox prove that the sky is the limit and there is nothing holding me back. Silver linings to all clouds of rain. You thought you would throw me a distraction, well, you don't realize you're dealing with a purple tornado, do you?
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I've got a strong immune system and I'm not one to cash in the sick days. My illnesses are few and far between, but when I'm hit, I can't but help to thank the world, or god or whomever, that I am not debilitated for more than a few days.
I got my second bit of food poisoning last night. Just in time to ring in spring, I was vomiting all the last bits in my stomach into the wee hours of the night. I suppose it's a fitting ritual in a way. Physically ridding myself of poison, just like I've been ridding my life of poisoning people and heavy stones in the last week.
It's not a easy experience, and my bowels and psyche writhe as the poison is processed most unpleasantly. I'd rather die than be sick. But I have to remember, when the poison is gone and my health and effervescent returns, I've got the best projects and activities to do. So, it's just riding out the bumpy part of the ride.
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Another 5 days have gone by on the blog without a peep. It's been a busy weekend. I've been in West Hollywood for most of the time, unexpectedly. From day to night, I don't know where I'll stay. I take the necessities with me: eyeliner, dog, laptop and a mish-mash of business and club clothes. Meeting plans change on the fly and my schedule and attire shift instantly. I've got a wardrobe costume change in my trunk. And I'm fine with that. Instead of irritation at the flux of everything around me, I blend and change. Endless changing. Endless blending and separating, like different temperature in a river stream.
My life used to be a series of habits, rituals, routes. It would have been easy to stalk me. But now, from day to day, I don't know where I'll be or what I'll be doing. It's like a line from a Bjork song: "I don't know my future, after this weekend, and I don't want to."
There's a big opening. And I've recently cut away the last chain. So there's this void. A gap. A space. A vacuum where anything can happen.
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I've sent my share of goodbye letters. Generally I end them
with "have a nice life" and I truly mean it. It's the cutting free of
a friendship or relationship gone down the wrong path. When you get a goodbye
letter from me, I mean it. I'll give you a certain number of chances. But when
I've reached then end, out comes the sword.
I used to try to always leave the door open. If the other person wanted to come
around again at some future time, maybe I would be interested, but no longer.
I've learned I'm a person who does not turn back. A fallacy I used to believe
about myself (to make me feel better about sling-shotting myself into new and
further locations) was that I can always take a step back. Yeah, I spent a lot
of time keeping that one last step available to me, and never once, did I take
that step back. Once I made a leap, I never looked back. So I'm removing that
piece of code from my programming.
It's hard to realize that some people in your life are not going to be in it
for the entire time. Or often even for a moment, but as I get older and wiser I
realize that is the case. And that's fine. The right people come into your life
exactly when you need them. And until you make room for new fabulous people and
projects, those things won't be able to come into your life.
So here's to flushing out the soul-sucking drama. Here's to flushing out people
who suck suck suck only on your blood, giving nothing in return, but recurring
drama. Here's to flushing out clueless business partners who will take
absolutely everything they can from everyone.
Here's the space for new collaborators. To create amazing projects. To execute
on dreams and desires that will change the lives of billions of people. What
that is, I'm not specifically sure. But I'm aiming for it. And when I fly solo,
I always hit my mark.
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Up early again. The San Gabriel's are shrouded in ground fog, the white caps poking into the clear blue sky. I am reminded of cold desert mornings: smoke in my eyes, cold wind in my face. Effortless coffee from the kitchen this morning. View over the desk. Yellow flowers, bright sun over the hills and I'm faced with a decision. What is important to me? What do I focus my energy on accomplishing? Plans made at night often feel different in the morning, even when it is a perfect plan.
And I'm trying to keep a low profile after the whirlwind that was yesterday. The big news of yesterday, is that I figured out who hit my car in that hit and run accident two weeks from yesterday. But for now, I keep silent. And psych myself up for executing a strategy in a different war.
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"We live in a predatory universe. In order to evolve we need antagonism. Evolution without antagonism, meaning without something always trying to eliminate us, or fight us, or stop us; forcing us to get stronger, better and smarter and evolve, there is no evolution.
And evolution is the very movement of life. Evolution is life. So without antagonism, there is no life."
- Felix Wolf via Ryan S
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My first doppelganger was in high school. I found out about
her from my high school sweetheart and now x-husband (I think he tried to date her). I never met her. She
apparently hated me. I don't even remember her name.
It's true, she looked a lot like me. Same shoulder length blonde hair. Quirky
hippish dark haired best friend. (My best friend also had dark longer hair.) I
saw her picture once and I was taken aback because I didn't remember the
picture being taken. Well, of course I wouldn't - it wasn't me - but it looked
very much like me.
I've got two current doppelgangers of a sort. I'll start with the easier one,
because she's pretty much out of the picture, although I'm absolutely certain
of the life she is living. I lived it. I met her about a year ago, sharing the
same birthday month. She was solidly in her LA scene. I was new to LA fresh
from subversive SF offerings. We slowly started to spin closer and bump into
each other a bit. The small bits of information we exchanged excited us. Wow -
what another cool person to meet and know and hang out with. It wasn't that
surprising for me to find someone like me - what was surprising was to find _how
much_ like me she was. Or how much like her I was. I was excited to plan
and do all these cool projects with her. She had the same crazy ideas and executed
on them. I dreamt of the crazy shit we'd come up with and create.
But then something happened. Burning Man did its magic. She made a suggestion.
I recoiled. But the groundwork had already been laid. She left LA and moved
north, into my previous life. We basically switched places. (I’m sure she would
fight tooth and nail that sentence, and I would too, if I were her.) She's got
her gig up north in Oakland.
I know the streets she walks her dog on. I could set her up with my x too. And apparently she hates me too. And
life could be stranger.
Oh and it is.
Doppelganger #2 is somewhat well known and in the same industry. At a recent party we both attended, I was much amused when someone I had just met pointed to her and said, "You should dye your hair that color." I could only smirk and laugh uproariously. The subversive circles we spin in are similar if not the same. And like my first doppelganger I've never met her, although we have practically brushed shoulder more than once.
At first I thought D#2 sounded like she had similar interests of mine. Perusing her site reminded me of my conversations with Steven Diet Goeddes in 1998 when I had my first Aeon Flux costume made. I was going to fly down to LA to have him photograph me. That never happened as I was deeply entrenched in my San Francisco world, but it was a nice walk down memory lane. Steve’s gone on to get extremely popular in the more mainstream market, I doubt he remembers my excitement in the plans that fell through. I wouldn't have remembered them. In the past year I have learned about more similarities between our interests, and with each unfolding of the lotus leaf, well, another rosebud of the same color.
At first I was irritated. “How dare she be like me?! I’m
unique!” The similarities kept pouring in and my thoughts turned to, “this is
too weird, she can’t possibly be copying me. And I’m certainly not copying her.”
But that’s all high school society and I’m way beyond that. So what is it then?
Well, I’ve evolved to who I am because this is who I want to be. I pick and
choose the stuff that appeals to me. Cutting edge, subversive, unique,
different and pushing the limit in some way. Maybe she's into that stuff too.
Don’t make the mistake. I don’t hate my doppelgangers. How
could I? They are merely reflections of myself in this world. And I’m a
reflection of them too. I wonder if she has a copy of aUI: the language of
space in her bookshelf? And for the same reasons?
The world is full of so many people, how dare I think I be
different – even though I have dared to be different my entire life. But I’m a
fragile soul and that’s why I carry this sledgehammer.
And that’s where my favorite doppelganger comes in. We’ve known each other for years, back in our previous San Francisco tech start-up lives, but we never really started spinning close until sometime last year. Unlike the previous three doppelgangers described above we are great friends. We’re spinning in a close orbit around and through each other. Feeding off our joint momentum and adding to it. She’s not a best friend, she’s a reflection of myself, and I am of her.
And those other doppelgangers are also reflections, but I’m not looking into those mirrors.
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I've lived in LA for almost two years and today I took my first yoga class here.
It's not because I've never taken yoga before. In my SF days, I could almost be considered a yoga nazi. I've done so many styles of yoga, I can't even remember them all. I've taught yoga. I tried Bikram, when there was only one studio in San Francisco and co-practitioners would disappear to LA for months at a time only to reappear as certified Bikram instructors. And I've got my opinions on all styles.
It's not that I've been practicing yoga on my own either. Sure I know most of the basic postures and how to correct and stand and be in those positions. And I have my favorite flow postures. But don't make the assumption that since I know them and have taught them, that I practice them at home. Oh no.
I don't know what it's been that held me back from getting back into yoga. I know the benefits to my body and mind and caffeine induced brain. I feel calmer, more connected and flexible. I've just been putting it off. Until today.
Carmen and I are like two race cars on the track - pacing each other egging the other to take a turn a bit more or open up in the straight-aways - all while keeping pace. We're not racing - we're pacing - at extremely fast speeds. Perhaps we're more like molecules or atoms spinning, gathering momentum and giving more to the momentum which builds the momentum more as we do so.
So she finally spun me up into a yoga class. It was great. It's been so long since I've done the postures and I felt completely inflexible, but that didn't seem to matter. Something in my body remembered the postures. I breathed, kept my judgment aside and relaxed, eventually my muscles did too, and the postures I ended up doing in the next hour amazed me. It was like I never missed a beat in my practice and in fact I was stronger and more powerful than before.
I don't know what to chalk that up to. Power you gain in any discipline can be transfer to any current activity. I wonder what would happen to my sword practice if I took it up again. And I wonder how sore I'll be tomorrow.
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This bad mood because of my car has just permeated so much of my life. I
hate it. I hate hating life, hating people and thinking everyone (or at least
some people) are my enemies. I know it's a bad mood, and it will pass. I try to
be detached from the negativity, because I know that it doesn't do anything to
revel in it, it's just sometimes hard.
I try the twist method. The murphy's law method. The hex method. The turn
the other cheek method. Nothing has worked. The Bad Mood still permeates.
I should have remembered that anytime I'm in a bad mood, I should just pop
on some Brazilian music. I finally caught up reading my mailing list email this
morning and grabbed this stream by Optimo from earplug. It's a mix of classic Brazilian
music mixed together, some classics I've never heard before - or rather earlier
versions of songs I know. It's great to get my brain out of English and
listening to the Portugues and Brasil. It reminds me of my time there, reminds
me of so many things I loved about braselieros, seu jeito.
It's just what I needed to kick the negativity out.
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So this post on craigslist missed connections (I don't read it, but my friends do) could sound like me, but I don't give my phone number out at bars (or really ever). Cause a funky nerdophile would only give out an email address (and I'd have to choose from one of about 20 to give you.)
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"let your rage exhaust itself to your balance point, then focus on the best possible outcome"
Everytime I think about how I have to pay to get my car fixed after someone backed into it and drove away without leaving a note, I can't speak to anyone. So forget about even trying to have a conversation with me on the phone.
Then there's the other completely irresponsible person I started a company with.
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Hey, I'm at LA BarCamp this weekend. Go check out the live blogging over here, thanks to Mack Reed. I'll fill you in on what I'm doing later, but I'm hosting the e-iron chef meets junkyard wars electronics swap and helping with Mistress Chi Chi on the GTD session. It will be lots of fun.
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It's just a quick post before I get caught up on my writing
for my new blog that launched earlier this week. I woke up to rainy morning,
but the sky is clearing. Outside my window is a baby hawk. She is sitting in a
bare branch watching the sky change from ominous grey clouds to The Orb's
little fluffy clouds on a backdrop of blue.
I like watching her watch the sky.
Update: The skies opened up again and started raining. But the hawk sits on the branch. looking around. Nothing in the sky but rain. I like the feeling I have this morning - cozy in my house, looking out at the world, a cup of coffee with cream and lots of ideas to write. Today will be productive.
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I was just searching for an old email from Gloria and came across our very first correspondence on May 16th in 2004. I think that with that one message so many things have happened. It was the beginning of an entirely new chapter in my life. It started so quietly that I didn't realize it at the time. And now, I am in the thick of amazing adventures surrounded by amazing people. It's nice to identify and acknowledge where it all began from.
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So my car got hit on the street again by one of my inconsiderate neighbors. I know what color truck it was and that the bitch driving had black hair. I hate these people. This is the second hit and run I've had on my car. I love the damn thing, it's so fun to drive, but I have to park it on the street and there are so many inconsiderate people who don't give a shit about destroying someone else's property and not taking responsible.
So what is my response. To be angry. To hex my neighbor. (Note: Don't piss me off. I'll send bad ju-ju your way.) And then to call up the Lotus dealership and schedule a test drive. I don't want to drop $40K on a new car. I don't even want a new car. I want my kick ass saab stick, but maybe the universe is telling me something. So I'll go take a test drive. See if I like it, and then make the money appear.
I'm always up for a challenge.
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How many freaking MT entry forms can I have open at the same time in the same browser actively writing? The answer: 3!
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This is a photograph of me in a field of quartz crystals. I was hiking up a wash and I kept finding these huge chunks of shimmering white rocks. Sam was scouting ahead of me and called me to come up over a pile of rocks. What I saw, delighted me. A field of these sparkling delights.
For some reason, I always seem to lose or forget my standard sunglasses when I go out to the desert. But lucky for me, I have my burning man big oggle-eye ones stashed in the glove box. I feel kind of weird being all clubbed out in the middle of nowhere.
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"In order to follow this path there is no way to avoid looking stupid. We will never outsmart infinity, no matter how much data we have."
- CC or CT
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Since Gloria has been gone, I haven't been eating that much pasta. It's not that we eat a lot of pasta anyway, but usually Gloria is the one who wants pasta and makes some amazing authentic Italian sauce. I was poking around in the kitchen last night, trying to decide what to cook and realize it had been months (well since I moved in with Sam in January) since I had Ragu.
Ragu, I have come to learned, is a meat sauce. Gloria makes hers with ground beef, bacon or cubed prosciutto, spices, maybe a chili and tomato sauce. It's often tossed with penne or fuscilli or bowtie pasta. So last night, I pulled out the meat, put a pot of water on to boil, got out some sauce and fished the penne out of the cabinet and proceeded to make my own ragu. Moki took great interest (he always gets some Ragu - that fabulously spoiled doggie!) and stood by my side in the kitchen. Finally I drained the pasta, put it in the big green bowl and poured my ragu on it.
All the while I was making the ragu, I kept thinking about the stories Gloria told me about her grandmother - Nonna Tesoro. About her cook books, about the stories of visiting her. You, dear readers, have a treat, because when I opened up Gloria's blog today, she wrote all about Nonna Tesoro! I was thinking about many of these same stories last night as the ragu bubbled away. I was missing Gloria and our conversations. Cooking with and for each other. I miss the breaks in the day, walking Moki around the neighborhood and our discussions about our various projects.
I started feeling all nostalgic for Gloria and Nonna Tesoro. I never met her, but I feel something. I think Gloria feels some what of the same for my Grandmother - Grammy Grace - who died last year. Most of the furniture in our house, including the plates we eat off of, the glasses we drink out of and the silver ware - actually silver plated silverware were hers. We both refer to Grammy Grace as Grammy - as if she is both of our Grandmothers - and why not? If Grammy Grace had known Gloria, she would have liked her - and I'm sure would have shared some of her crazy traveling stories.
All these things are percolating around in my head and I'm in the kitchen. I pull down one of grammy's beautiful blown glass wine glasses - it's holds barely a drop of wine - and look for some wine. I fill the glass, take the bowl of tossed penne with ragu and sit down to eat. I raise the glass and make a toast - to Grandma Tesoro (and Grammy Grace). As I devour my ragu and pasta, Moki is licking his chops too - he's just finished his dinner - doggie kibble tossed with ragu.
We all try to eat well in the future!
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Although a lot of people usually try to disagree with me on this, especially when I bring it up at parties, I am actually an introvert. Although I'll go to great effort and energy to put together parties and events, I usually prefer to step back into the "hostess" role, where I get to go hide in the kitchen and take care of making sure the scene looks prop perfect, rather than having just mingling with random people. Then again, when I'm throwing an event, I always want to close up doors, shut off lights and leave right before the event - and pretend like it was never going to happen. Somehow, I always stop myself from doing this.
That's probably also why I enjoy blogging. I can "talk" about all kinds of things about myself, my observations of the world all while having a conversation with myself. Yes, the reason I blog, is to remember myself. Remember who I am, who I was, how I have changed. It's the map of my life and it's easily accessible now because of the "Inter-net"!
If you're interested in reading more about introverts and care and feeding. This article from the Atlantic two years ago is interesting.
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It's the morning tug of war. Coffee, Moki fed in his new bowls, the door to the upstairs deck open and the sunlight streaming into Gloria's office (where I have moved my office while she is gone). When Moki and I walk in the neighborhood, he has specific bushes and locations that he must sniff and re-mark. I was thinking about this and my various email accounts that are my favorites and I must check. I have over 20 email addresses, about 8 that I regularly check. Two that I generally respond with. Two that are big name web mail applications that I use for archiving or when my system goes down.
But I definitely have my favorite. When I took the heathervescent domain I wanted to go with one email address and no spam. That lasted about 2 years and the mailto:hbomb is retired and filtered away onto one of those online services. I think some people still use that as my primary mailto address, and it is by far my favorite one, but it's just too unwieldy to use. (I could actually use Spam software, but it doesn't seem to work well. And I do have spam filtering on the server.)
I've been working with two primary IDs for the past several years and one was definitely the primary, "inner circle" one. But there has been a shift in the force. And the "secondary" one that has been holding down the fort is becoming my favorite. It's the workhorse.
I'll talk more about my favorite email address in a bit. For now, it's time for Moki to visit his bushes.
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His eyes light up at the mention of WordStar commands.
"Oh, you're the famous roommate."
It was a Hollywood party as one would imagine. I enjoyed myself more than I might have thought. The hosts were interesting and I enjoyed talking with them. I made new friends and ran into a few people I already knew. I arrived quietly and left even quieter.
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If you're not following Gloria's challenge in healing her sister after she dropped on the street into a coma, which are pretty amazing, Marina just woke up. It's been just awesome watching this unfold and I continue to be impressed with the amazing things we can do in this life with determination, energy and abandon.
I'm happy to have friends like this in my life, and to support them as I can, whether I be near or far.
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My recent trip to the desert was as soft and cushioned as a feather bed. We rolled in just as the sun had set and the desert was as quiet as I have ever not heard. Not a sound. Not one bird, not one bee buzzing. The only sound I heard, was one that I made myself.
I decided to check out the ancient petroglyph cave. The ground was covered with droppings again. The last time I was in the cave, I washed the floor with a bottle of Verve Cliquot champagne and a scrub brush. I stood in the cave, looking at the facing rock. The two holes that swallows usually fly in and out of. Completely silent. No sound. No movement.
Gradually I heard a buzzing. The sound reverberated in my ears and grew louder, taking on a heavy quality. It resonated in the cave. I couldn't tell where the sound was coming from and I could physically feel the vibration. As the sound got louder and reverberated more I re-cognized it as the sound of an airplane. But it had already done it's damage on my perception.
I collected dead cholla and other firewood. A pot of boiling water for hot tea. The ephedra bush that I once drank tea from. A straight stick for roasting marshmallows. Dinner consisted of tea and roasted marshmallows. I even shared the sticky white sweetness with the desert mice. We've got a great video of one carting off a marshmallow. I'll upload it shortly.
The sky gradually got darker and needles of light appeared. The cloud cover softened and the wind blew it away to show the galaxy of stars. I sat on rocks as the fire burned into embers and watched the Milky Way, catching a shooting star or two. I slept like a baby into the bright hours of morning, head buried in my sleeping bag.
Lazy morning awake. A walk about to the other side of the canyon and we found a great treasure sparkling in the bright sun. The blue sky was Hollywood unreal. Fluffy clouds for as far as the eye could see, sitting on the flat edge of atmosphere. It was surreal with the inclined desert plain.
Although it had been almost a year and a half since I returned to this location, it was in some ways, just a moment. An instant. Nothing had changed much. Although I have changed. Gained more power. I am more seasoned. The silence and quietude of the desert was much welcome to me. So quiet my ears didn't know what to do. So quiet that immediately my standard frame of reference was broken and I was acting from a totally different world view.
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I've got four party invites for tonight and other event possibilities and I was supposed to be 30 miles or so off pavement in the Mojave already, but I'm still here in LA. Dick Dale goes on stage in less than an hour and there are still tickets. I've got invites to festivities in downtown LA, Beverly Hills and West Hollywood. When I'm overloaded with event possibilities I generally skip them all and play homebody at home. Too many options, plus I'm nursing myself after last night. B.la gathering started early and went well, but everything went to hell once I went to Miss Kitty's and ran into friends. Oh well, that's what living in LA is all about ne? There will be some day in the future that I'll wish for tonight's party choices... the only question I have now is... what to wear?
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I was just posting a comment on my friend, colleague and co-conspirator Carmen de Jesus's blog about stepping out of the dojo. I share some of her fears about the plateau. Usually I take the current level I am at and just make it harder - more and increasingly difficult challenges and limiting parameters.
But I'm tired of practicing. I've been practicing for years on so many varied tracks. 2006 is the year of kicking ass. And you can't kick ass if you're pulling punches for your uke. Even when sword is in hand, it's the wooden one, clanking away at your opponent's sword, staff or hands. Nothing really on the table.
Well... that's all changed. Everything in my life has moved to a different level. One in which, yes, like Carmen I feel secure - but the security is my honed skillset. The world provides the actual challenges to use my skills. I can't necessarily create these opportunities, just be aware when one comes my way.
I wish I could write about one activity I recently did that really proved to me that I am far from the Dojo. That I'm out in the thick of life - doing what I do best - doing what I love - and that in doing the activity, I am energized. Manifesting a character of myself I always wanted to be. It was simple in some ways and used all the skills and items I had collected in my past years.
But I can't speak of it. Not now, and maybe never. But that's ok. Because I know what I did and I saw the results. And I gain confidence and power from the experience.
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I've been driving about 4 different cars recently. With Gloria in Italy taking care of her sister, her car is left parked on the street. I would occasionally start it and take it down to the corner store - just to keep the oil moving. But then I finally cleaned my car and decided that it was easier to take Moki (the dog) certain places in Gloria's car, so I started using her car a bit more. Here's an important distinction:Gloria's car is automatic, all of my vehicles are manual transmission.
I always pay attention when I drive an automatic. Usually I flail my right hand and stomp my left leg, because they don't realize they are not needed. Driving a stick, I have mastered the art of driving, shifting, talking on the phone and eating M&Ms.
But back to the automatic driving. It's a completely different world. It's so easy to drive an automatic. I can't believe how relaxed I was. Too relaxed in fact. I kept thinking, if almost everyone drives an automatic, why is there so much road rage? It's no challenge. And maybe that is the key. Because you don't really need to focus your attention on driving your car, your attention needs more stimulus and you are distracted by the radio, CD player, cell phone, billboard, hot chick at the corner, the dog, whatever is on your mind...
So in a way, it's almost more dangerous to drive an automatic, because you can be distracted more, whereas if you drive a stick and are completely distracted by the world, you won't actually get anywhere - you'll stall. There's a correlation to living your life in there, but I'm too distracted to write about it. ;)
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"Don't think I'm strange because I sleep with a talisman under my pillow. You sleep with a gun under the bed!"
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I'm back on Theory Radio tonight doing my show. Tune in at this link. Updates can be found at the Theory Radio Blog.
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Last saturday I had a slumber party at my house. There were 10 of us girls over at the house and we traded clothes, watched Valley Girls, made lots of yummy food, made prank calls, painted our faces with mud and played truth or lie.
What was the most fun was the fire. I love candles and fire and burn them a lot. I had these 3 ft candles in my front yard burning. Apparently one of them burned very fast and the wax melted onto the earth and eventually caught on fire. We found this amazing spectacle of "burning earth" when a friend showed up and asked "Is that some cool kind of fire effect or is should that not be on fire?" We all rushed to the door to check it out. Yes, indeed, it was a cool fire effect but was NOT supposed to be on fire.
(Too add to the fire hazard, that's an extension cord running under the burning candle and over the burning earth.) But amazingly no plants were harmed in the "accident" nor was any damage to anything. Just good clean fun gone awry.
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"Well, let's start by
making it clear
who is the enemy
And we'll show them
that's it not them
who is superior"
- Thievery Corporation
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Like Dark Matter in the universe, that may appear as a void, yet when understood is not actually a void. So too this the seemingly lack of heathervescent writing not a void. The life has been full of exciting adventures and activities. Some, I hope to post about sooner than later.
xo. xo. xo.
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"It's the time to discard what's worn out, give away what's unnecessary, and tend what you love." - Eudora Seyfer
I used to be interested in holding onto things as long as I could. Whether they were actual objects, current addresses or phone numbers or love letters. All these things in the past or object half-done, half-used still taking RAM space in my brain. Clothes I loved but could not dare to get rid of for fear that "I might want to wear that someday."
Then something changed. I was invited to a clothing swap by a good friend of mine in Berkeley. I loved the idea and went through my closet picking out things to bring. The first time was hard. I still was not sure that I wanted to remove these things from my life. I had enjoyed them and might enjoy them again. But I wanted room for new things, so I brought a bunch of stuff.
This was the beginning of the end of my need for keeping things.
Now I'm not quite obsessed, but I get much pleasure from finishing things. From the bottle of honey on the counter to the custom altered orange "couture" pants I put in the swap bag last night. There is pleasure in having things I actively enjoy, and when the active enjoyment is finished, pass them on to the next person. That opens up space in my life for something new.
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