January 2005 Archives

saint toad:

it's mine!

all mine!

the blog has a new domain.

you can still use the old one i guess.

all the links have to be updated in the database, hope i don't fuxx it up too bad like some folks did.

let's see...

cd /var/www/mysql
mkdir mtbak
cp -R moveabletype/* mtbak

that should do it ;)

more armchair philosophizing, why not?

perhaps '"the" purpose of life' is a bit strong, let's try '"a" purpose of life', eh?

a purpose of life: to answer the question "what kind of person am i?"

one may think that one knows the answer, but if one is honest, one will find that one does not know the answer until one is forced to make a choice.

example:

Q: am i the kind of person that can put the needs of another before my own?
guessed answer from 12 months ago: no
real answer, gained from recent experience: evidently, to some extent, yes

example2:

Q: am i the kind of person that needs another?
A from 6 months ago : no
A today : yes

what kind of person am i?

in the past, i avoided making the choices that could help answer.

i will never know the full answer, but the picture becomes more clear with each decision (and it's not always pretty).

finished off a tin of wintergreen altoids, an abomination.

because it will probably be misunderstood, even by me.

and because i don't like to whine.

oh, you think that i do, but you're wrong.

i like to whine about inconsequential things, because i think it's funny. because i have things that i really ought to whine about, but don't. because i don't *want* people to feel sorry for me, and i don't *want* a support group or a hug. i want to feel better, and i think (bone-headedly) that by figuring out root causes i will vanquish my problems. i've probably got fewer problems than most. i've absolutely got fewer problems than some.

well, i'm not whining now. i'm documenting. i'm going to look back on this in a year and see whether things have improved or gotten worse. i'm going to look back and be happy or depressed. i've probably got fewer problems than most. so here i go already:

THINGS THAT ARE CURRENTLY WRONG WITH ME
.......................................

Physical Things
---------------
- funky taste in mouth. salty, sour, or bitter, depending on unknown factors. i guess that probably means most/all of my tongue is freaking out. doctor said today it wasn't a medical problem and to see a dentist. i shall.
- headache. possibly i didn't eat enough today. possibly i'm congested from allergies. possibly claritin (which i am taking now for a week) is less effective than allegra (which i'd been taking for years). used to it.
- sore neck. possibly from workout on friday. possibly from sleeping in a bed softer than i'm used to. possibly from laying on the floor yesterday. used to it.
- sore knees. probably from abortive attempt at running yesterday. possibly from shoes. possibly from carrying my still-somewhat-fat-self around all day.
- elevated body temp., real or perceived. weather has changed, maybe it's real. maybe i've got a fever.
- eyes feel dry and sore. probably allergies. possibly poor quality of sleep. used to it.
- tired. didn't sleep well. used to it.
- hugry. small lunch. used to it.
- nostrils at 80% operational capacity. allergies. used to it.
- weird taste in mouth. yes, i mentioned this before. of all the items on this list, it's the most recent and unusual addition, and really bugs me.
- irritated skin on neck and chin. chronic razor burn. used to it.
- skin breakouts near hairline. cause unknown. used to it.
- sore legs. squats. shouldn't be sore, i squatted wednesday.
- dry lips. the weather. used to it.
- gas. chronic. uh, that is, i've always got it, not that it's caused by tha chronic. used to it.
- caffeine addiction. it's okay though, i can quit anytime i want.

Mental Things
-------------
- clearly, the fact that i have made such a list is an indication of mental problems.
- lack of focus and desire to do my job
- chronic self-hypnosis
- chronic, terminal indecision
- overdeveloped senses of proportion and empathy
- underdeveloped sense of recognition of underdevelopment of proportion and empathy in others
- inability to be serious for long periods of time
- crisis overreaction
- crappy memory
- occasionally forget which parts of my mental-makeup are ironic-self-amusing-affectations and which parts are real
- failure to desire to distinguish reality from fantasy
- can rationalize anything, no fixed point of perspective. no firm moral standing. nuts!
- view life as a series of adventures, lessons, or experiments. this may be a strength and not a problem.
- fear of change of routine. getting over it. no longer have much of a routine.

Emotional Things
----------------
- emotional maturity not level across the board. some areas underdeveloped. some areas overdeveloped. crikey!
- convinced that i can (still) turn my emotions off at the drop of a hat, though i haven't tried it lately because i'm pretending to be a human. fooled you all!
- i've finally got a girlfriend (or more!) and i'm flailing about, drowning and lost. i dunno what to do. sometimes "being myself" doesn't seem to cut it. quite often, a reaction that would be appropriate for everyone else in the world is inappropriate for a gf (duh!) but often i wonder if i'm doing everyone a disservice by thinking so.

.... and the punch line is: despite all this, i still maintain a positive outlook! how? i dunno!

i hope we make it to tomorrow.

i feel... helpless. everything i do is wrong.

i doubt myself. i'm worried. i want to talk, to help, to comfort... but i can do no right. i try, and i fail. my genuine offers are taken as disingenuous or forced. my compromises go unnoticed.

what can i do?

tomorrow is W's birthday, and I'm in charge of making it special.

i love W, in case you haven't noticed, so i want to make it special.

before I met W, it had been a very long time since anyone did anything to make my birthday special. part of that was because i always told everyone (truthfully) that i didn't really care about birthdays. another part was that i didn't have anybody nearby who cared enough to do anything for me then.

i know how that feels, and i can tell that W is excited about her birthday. some people don't care about birthdays. personally, i think birthdays and holidays are about as silly as borders and nationalism. but not everyone shares my views. W doesn't. so for her, i'm excited. and i'll do what i can to make it a memorable day.

i wasn't able to throw together anything super-exciting like a trip in the space shuttle or a tour of the secret tunnels underneath UN plaza in SF. i don't have organizational skills like that. i've never thrown a party for anyone.

but i do have some plans.

they're classic "me", i think. they're a surprise. i hope she will like them. they (mostly) don't depend on where we'll be. they depend on who we'll be with.

at the end of the day, all i can do is my best, and hope that that is good enough. i've been pushing the limits of "my best" for many months now, doing things that i never would have imagined that i could do, doing things that go against my grumpy, lazy, avoidance-over-confrontation instincts. changing my instincts, when they got in the way, and changing myself. pushing my limits.

i'll keep pushing my limits for her, if i must; she's worth the effort. if i can move them, they were never limits after all.

no right or wrong
only different.

it's easy to think up reasons to do the things i want to do.
it's not so easy to know whether i'm doing the right thing.

and then...
and then i look to the past and know that i'm right.

the future is a memory that i do not have yet. it does not exist.
there are the past, and the present.

it is for them that i act, the future will take care of itself.

...a little perspective is a good thing to have

...a little rationalization can justify anything

...a little justification is all that's needed

...the right thing is done for the wrong reasons

...the right thing is done for the right reasons

...it's nice to have an imagination

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!!!

broke an egg putting a new 12pack into the fridge, the door closed on it and squished one.

i dont mind the waste of food, much. what really eats me is that now i have an odd number of eggs and can't eat 2 per serving.

argh!!!!!

i broke one last week and had to split 3 eggs this morning with W.

you can't split 3 eggs 2 ways!!! 2 doesn't go into 3!!!!!!

aarrrrrrrgggh!!!

see, it's obvious that i am descended from monkeys

(yes, yes, i know that's not at all what the theory (and yes, i do know what the word means) of evolution is about, but jeez, have a laugh, yo)

in the french press, this time, for a big change. haven't pressed the french in months, since i got my pourover drip.

this time, i roasted it a little darker and it rested 3 days and i used quite a lot of beans and ground them to almost drip fineness.

the result: one of the best cups of coffee ever.

it's toasty. it's earthy. it's grassy. there's a perfect word for the flavor and it's right on the tip of my tongue (near the spot were W bit me) but not forthcoming.

nope, now it - the flavor and the word - are gone. as it cools, the acidy flavors come out and the roast becomes more noticeable. not bad at all, but i prefer the funky stuff from the beginning of the cup. it's still in here, just not so pronounced.

oddly, this press cup feels like it has less body than the first time i had malabar, as drip (which should have less body than press). no theories on that one.

on a related note, i think i'm gonna once again pack up my solis maestro plus. it's just taking up counter space. rocky does espresso duty, and my boxy zass got used for press duty today, so what's old SMP sposed to do? nothing, that's what. bleh.

i should ebay it, but for some reason i don't wanna. why not? i sold the gaggia...

i like to eat your sausage, and i recommended to my mom to eat your sausage, too.

might be a cold, not allergies

i'll have to count my claritins to be sure

downed an allegra since that's all i had

helped, but that could just be the pseudoephedrine

gonna suck if i've got a cold

means no rollerblading tomorrow, ugh.

korea, or canada, or maybe taiwan
i didn't know it was the holy land
but i believed from the minute the check left my hand

fucking allergies

best

espresso

ever

more later.

got rained on, big time

bit my tongue

my shins are sore

by 30 i will have no knees

by 40 i will have bionic hips

by 50 i will have a full LB retrofit like the guy from that awesome AvP ripoff game from crack dot com

it was uphill most of the way

and dark

and i nearly got run over

and stuck in the mud

it was a fuckin awesome run

here's the big camera phone picture backlog, all the crap i needed to post since i lost my bluetooth dingus.

a sign in a subway restroom in SLO. the brown sign says: "if you hear a steady siren 3 to 5 minutes, tune your radio to whatever.whatever FM for more information." the siren will sound when the nearby nuclear power plant blows. remember to wash your hands, kids, before leaving the john when the siren's ringing. you wouldn't want to start your new life as a post-apocalyptic-nuclear-mutant with icky poopy hands!

picking a winner!

me smashed in ventura, CA. later that night, my drinking buddy would piss on a parked RV at my suggestion. good times. that's actually his glass. i drank most of his beers that night because he was driving. and paying.

here's the RV-pissing drinking buddy wearing his Everyday Helmet. he wears this whenever he leaves the house, doctor's orders.

the mook and i stumble upon the handiwork of a barnes and noble employee with a sense of humor.

the mook makes an enhancement, turning near-perfection into perfection.

W is too modest to share a smile with the camera.

f33r my photoshop sk1llz

i'm no one-trick-pony, i can crop in both directions!

here's what you get if you ask for 69 at tuk tuk thai on shattuck in berkeley:

yum.

bleh

got a replacement bluetooth dingus today for the one i lost.

setting this shit up is such a freaking hassle it's unbelievable.

i went through hell setting up the last one (okay, hardly "hell" but it took hours and wasn't fun and was totally random as far as i could tell). same thing this time. i installed their stupid SW, uninstalled, reinstalled. plugged it into seven different USB ports, 2 different computers, no luck.

finally, i plugged it into one of the ports i'd used before, and suddenly, magically, it worked. why? who knows. and of course, the port that it works on is in the most inconvinient place possible.

while it was working, i copied all the pics off my camera just in case i couldn't get it to work again.

here's one for your amusement, dear reader:

okay, some wankers thought that this was not a saint toad original, and even went as far as googling snippets to "see where i got it".

no sirs, that's all me. and furthermore, it's not just random gibberish, it actually means something.

so, for your reading pleasure, the translation to simple, unobfuscated english follows:

while most people, when presented with the 
basic setup, would assume only one possible intention,

and while it would be disingenuous to deny 
that that outcome had been seriously considered, 

it can be said with absolutely no deception that 
only the recognition of a potential outcome exists

 - the intention is not the popularly assumed one.

indeed, light introspection reveals with abundant clarity 

that at relatively (and perhaps absolute) great 
personal (and public?) expense, 

this undertaking will be undertaken with no 
regard (though, to be fair, no disregard!) 
for the conventional reward.

what, then, is the purpose?

the lack of nefarious opportunities 
(though perhaps your author lacks 
imagination to see base opportunities 
where some exist!) 

leaves but one conclusion 

- conventional, yes, but still not the assumed 
conventional motivation.

my motivation is love, pure and simple and pink and cheesy. i want to be with her because being with her makes me happy.
[ed note: although, by a freakish coincidence, that did not turn out to be the case, that night, even after all this mumbo jumbo. heh heh. oops!]

isn't that sweet?

got some monsooned malabar AA from SM, arrived yesterday along with some other beans.

i decided to roast it up before heading over to W's. i was in a hurry.

normally, smokey wants exactly 64g of green beans to do his magic.

unfortunately, monsooned malabar are swollen up huge, and 64g would have filled the whole roast chamber, probably leading directly to a kitchen fire.

i noticed the size of the beans immediately when i looked at the bag. it was a 2lb bag but i rememebered ordering only 1lb of beans. sure enough, the beans were individually so light that it takes twice the volume to contain 1lb.

so i ditched the 64gm measure and filled the chamber to the approximate volume occupied by 64gm of "normal" beans. turned smokey on and waited.

took forever to get to 1st crack, and i turned him off just barely in to second crack (maybe! that might have been just 1st crack remainders.). in any case, the beans were very lightly roasted. i feared leaving smokey on too long and burning him out. i'll push him harder next time.

fast fwd to this morning, on my berkeley => san mateo commute...

hot damn! that stuff is fargen delicious! doesn't taste like "coffee", it's earthy, nutty, grassy, and absolutely yummy. got some acidy notes as it cooled, but i think i'll try to roast those out next time. the body was amazing - it was heavy as espresso, nearly, and this was from paper filter drip! this might become a favorite bean of mine, despite the difficulty in roasting it. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmonsoon!

so i posted my little whine (okay, to be fair, i think it's a legitimate concern. maybe not even a concern but just a feeling that needed to be out in the open). showed it to W, not sure where things would go from there, but certain they'd go somewhere. the topic required discussion.

she suggested phone.

i pointed out that she wouldn't be able to wipe away tears over the phone (heh).

so i made an unplanned visit. we talked. she wiped. some things that needed to be out in the open made it out in the open, and some things that probably should have been kept under wraps also made it out in the open. oops ;)

people keep telling me that communication is key, and i nod and say "yep". i understand. i believe. but really, i didn't understand and believe on a gut level -- where it really matters -- until last night. we've covered difficult stuff before, but this was far beyond the normal level of difficulty (for me, at least). and what happened?

what happened?

she understood. and she wasn't upset, or offended, or sad, or scared, or disgusted, or any of the negative things i feared. she understands me. we talked and talked and talked, and though i don't think we really came up with a "plan" or a "decision", we opened the door wide for future discussion. that's more important than a "plan" at this point.

and i realized something else, and told it to her :

i love her more now than i did on monday. more than i did a week ago and more than i did a month ago. it's still growing. i'm still growing.

i like it when that happens.

running feels good. no rain, as it turned out. just puddles and slick metal access panels.

i was feeling kinda crappy when i got home. long, boring day at work with lotsa junk on my mind and still the funky taste in my mouth (which could be ALS (though it almost certainly isn't), huzzar!).

so after i ran, i feel relaxed, peaceful, calm, good, and not terribly hungry.

still, it was a lot of work. i could have accomplished the same thing with just one hug from...

so.

i wrote an entry in my private journal dingus.

last time i did that was way back in septiembre. every time i've done it has been "bad luck" in some sense, but at least i've always gotten something off my chest.

"private" is a little joke, since the journal entries are all about people i know, and i always show the entries to the people in question.

this one will be no exception.

it's raining!

but i gots to run tonight, i gots to! it's been more than a week, gadzooks.

so i guess i'll be running in the rain.

looks like my forecast was off by a day. and it looks like i was talking about rain, after all.

thesis
antithesis
synthesis

it's crowlean, too, for that matter.

reintegration.
reabsorption.
growth.

with growth comes movement.
with movement comes growth.

orobouros spots his tail, and prepares for collision.

i perform alchemy to turn my lead into gold, but fear that soon the crucible will cool.

know what i mean?

me : is it going to rain?
cow-orker : most likely
me : on both sides of the bay?
cow-orker : well, we'll get some, and then they'll get some. i don't know when you'll get some.
me : hopefully tonight.

zing!
double-zing!

you suppose the preceding two entries had a point...

you've missed the point.

consider this :

while most people, when presented with the basic setup, would assume only one possible intention, and while it would be disingenuous to deny that that outcome had been seriously considered, it can be said with absolutely no deception that only the recognition of a potential outcome exists - the intention is not the popularly assumed one.

indeed, light introspection reveals with abundant clarity that at relatively (and perhaps absolute) great personal (and public?) expense, this undertaking will be undertaken with no regard (though, to be fair, no disregard!) for the conventional reward.

what, then, is the purpose?

the lack of nefarious opportunities (though perhaps your author lacks imagination to see base opportunities where some exist!) leaves but one conclusion - conventional, yes, but still not the assumed conventional motivation.

isn't that sweet?

hm.

right?

nah.

right?

nah.

it was on my mind this week and weekend, and now my manager has brought it up:

i need to schedule my sabbatical.

jfc, man, i haven't got time for a 3 week vacation!

i'm sorry that this sounds silly. i know it is. more rich-man's guilt, eh? most folks don't get this kinda opportunity, and here i am being a whiney little bitch about what a big inconvenience a 3 week vacation is going to be.

i think i've gotten over the things that have kept me from taking the usual american-style vacations : europe, hawaii, thailand, etc.

oh, hell, no i haven't.

and now i've got other things that make me hesitant to leave the continent, country, state, or bay area for long periods.

bleh.

okay, today i'm gonna brainstorm it, and by the weekend i'm gonna have it all figured out. right? riiiiight.

i accidentally "over-roasted" some SM's espresso monkey the other day, and in the cup, it was really really good. chocolatey and balanced.

the "properly roasted" espresso monkey was sour and unsatisfying no matter how i adjusted grind and temperature.

so i roasted up 2 more batches of "over-roasted" and we'll see if i need to readjust my thinking.

also, unfortunately, it seems that smokey is roasting fast these days. maybe it's the beans or the ambient temp or the voltage or something, but second crack is at about 5:30 now and not 6:00. i'm trying to resist buying a variac, but i think it's a lost cause.

my mom's sister has alzheimer's, we just found out.

yes, it's genetic.

on any given day, there are :

- a dozen things irritating me
- a dozen things aggravating me
- a dozen things physically wrong with me
- a dozen things that i have forgotten to do
- a dozen things that i have put off doing
- a dozen things inflicting allergens upon me
- a dozen things causing me guilt
- a dozen things that i feel i must do for others
- a dozen things that i feel i must do for myself
- a dozen awful songs stuck in my head
- a dozen bagels
- a dozen reasons why i can't finish the story i'm working on
- a dozen reasons why i didn't sleep well the night before
- a dozen reasons why i won't sleep well the coming night
- a dozen books i want to read, movies i want to see, bands i want to join, languages i want to learn
- a dozen places i ought to be

i've learned to live with them.

still working on learning to like them.

i had maybe 5 sodas total in all of 2004.

4 more to go for this year.

burp.

so i indulged my hankering.

and despite the fact that i havent skated in aboot 5 months, and havent rollerbladed in about 8 months, and the fact that foster city bike path is almost totally unsuitable for skating, it fargen rocked.

the weather was and still is awesome.

my balance was all there, and my feet were comfy - probably because i've been wearing my jungle boots so much lately.

i was slow and a little awkward on the way "there", but on the way "back" i was loose and warmed up and swift. i watched my shadow do the axel rose dance and laughed. i tripped over a tree-stump-exploded chunk of concrete and nearly died before catching a trash can. i discovered - near the end of my skate, unfortunately - that if i get down in the one-arm-swing speed-skating pose, i magically (and really, it was such a dramatic change that it felt like magic) have much better balance, rhythm, speed, and power. i'll have to remember that for next time.

at some point along the way, words floated into my consciousness : "pain is in the mind". "that's funny," i thought to myself, "because it sure feels like pain is in my back and bew-tocks right now, not my mind."

tomorrow i'm gonna have a really sore arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse. arse.

hail satan!

linky

primo linky

roasted up a single batch of EOS last nite.

this morning, even though it should rest 3 days, i couldn't help but brew some.

it's been a long while since i'd had single-origin espresso, but i'd heard somewhere that sidamo is a good choice. and it was a nice vienna roast, just begging to be put through silvia.

so i clicked rocky one to the left to account for the freshness, dialed silvia in to 226.5 (a guess!), ground, tamped, locked, and since i only had enough for 2 shots + 1 cup of drip, eminem ran through my head:

you've only got one shot
do not miss this opportunity, yo!

heh.

the shot was a little fast, but had tons of crema and nice color. the puck - as usual since i put in the PID - was nice and dry. the shot was spicy, bold, a little bitter in the aftertaste, but overall very good.

in the cup, it's funk-ay!

earthy, musty, unique. it says : i am not juan valdez! the filter removes a lot of body, i think. this is light and smooth in texture, though the flavor is anything but smooth.

it's coffee like this that reminds me : even though i have suck-all for a distinguished palette, occasionally i can tell the difference between regional varieties.

a night alone
i thought i wanted one
but always, when i have one
even when i need one
i realize
that i don't enjoy loneliness
as much as i used to

her strange calming influence
is missed
and unexplained
and when she is not here
i don't know what to do
and i wait
for the little smiley yahoo man
to tell me that she's back
so i can be as smiley
as he is

i wait to hear her voice
even if i must hear it
with my mind
and with my soul, as always
but not with my ear
and not through my arms

i miss her touch
her smile
her skin
the feel of her in my embrace
and the things she tells me without moving her lips
and the things she tells me while moving her lips
without words

i miss the way she clears away the rain and the clouds
i don't think she knows she does it
i don't think she knows
why i look at her the way i do

i'll be mellow when i'm dead

CAUTION : the above link may cause cancer or popups in non-firefox users.

i've got quite a strong hankering to go rollerblading this weekend.

i haven't been in ages, and the weather is fargen fantastic.

on the other hand, my squat frequency is now such that i get multi-day soreness after each session, my most recent session being on wednesday (still sore!). as if that weren't enough, i've got signs of squat-and-bed-induced-lower-back-tweak that i am 98% sure will be exacerbated by rollerblading. rollerblading always leaves me with a sore lower back/bew-tock for some reason.

it's the same spot i've "thrown out" at least twice before, though never while actually doing anything that ought to injure me.

still, ooooh! the hankering! i hank! i'll probably do it, injury be durned.

i really can (and do) tell her everything.

she long ago passed the point of knowing-more-about-me-than-anyone-else (at least as far as old embarassing secrets are concerned), pretty soon (if we aren't already) we'll be lost in TMI-land.

harry and the nut sacks.

everett and jones barbecue, near jack london square in oakland.

went there last night with W (her treat, w00t!)

service was slooooooooooooooooow, they took a long old time to take our order, then an even longer time to deliver it. man i was starving when we got there and passing out by the time we got the food, which was good, because the food...

oh me oh my.

i've got a big soft spot for southern food, which is funny, because i really don't have much experience with it, outside of simba's ribhouse in palm springs.

E&J wasn't a buffet like simba's, but they do dish up a lot of food. had the brisket (leaner than willy's with a much better sauce and bigger portion) + corn bread (good, but not amazingly good) + yam (amazingly good!) and greens (good, but not amazingly good). W had the tater salad (not my bag, baby) + the beans (amazingly good). the waiter took pity upon us for our wait and brought us free strawberry lemonades (a delightfully interesting combo - the lemonade on the bottom is room temp, but the strawberry stuff on top is chilled) and then a free pair of single-serving pecan pies. oh my, the pie.

i'd never order it on my own, but who am i to refuse a free pie?

oh my, the pie!

we ate pretty late, and the meal kept me up most of the night. burp. but E&J is definitely on my short list of places to go back to. there's even a take-out version a couple blocks from W's place. score!

squats + bodyweight hip-flexes + too little sleep + sitting in a cubicle all day = sore bew-tocks.

ow.

linky

s-------v : no sixpack ... dunno if i could ever get my bodyfat that low and still function
maury_cohen: yeah
maury_cohen: too low bodyfat == no babies
maury_cohen: gotta keep yourself in babymaking shape!
s-------v : hrmm
s-------v : that's true
maury_cohen: that's my excuse, at least

new dirty joke in the "main" graphic up there (*points).

it's really funny. heh heh.

and every once in a while, i go back to pasta grotto, for some reason.

it's cheaper to remind yourself that it sucks when you're eating there alone.

meh. thanks, pasta grotto, for spoiling my good-restaurant-record.

bleh.

i mean, the food was all right, as always. it was just small portions and bizarrely overpriced.

and dammit, that bread would be so much better if you just nuked it.

argh.

meh, bleh, and argh. bluh.

on a more positive note, apparently the dinner provided me with a much needed dose of insoluble fiber.

this weekend i spent much of my time :

- modifying silvia (PID addition, then internal wiring changes) and modifying rocky (removed portafilter holder, doser fin mod)

- listening to gangsta rap

- acting either really really goofy or really really mushy with W

the mods were some of the most fun i've had in a long time (until i got to W's house overcaffeinated, that is. heh. that was more fun).

anyhow, modifying my equipment - doing electrical work with no prior experience - was extremely satisfying, making me feel capable and manly and all that stuff. i'm looking around for more things to mod.

on the way home from sunday lunch, i drove by what was evidently a G35c/z300/skylineC convention outside of mimi's cafe in FC. there was a whole pair of parking lot rows filled with the things. i could finally sort of identify with ricers.

on the other hand, i'm hella glad i'm into modding my $500 espresso machine, and not a 40k (or more?) sportscar imported from japan (skyline isn't sold in the US!)

and my mods have an actual noticeable effect.

i need a VTEC sticker for silvia.

i am chewing gum because while i was fiddling around with silvia's guts, i dropped a plastic connector cover down into the group and couldn't grab it with my forceps (i think that's what they are. they're not tweezers, for sure) or my tweezers. so i got some gum and as soon as it was chewed a little, stuck it on my foreceps and recovered the dingus.

heh.

i love you.

okay, after the setback of blowing up my lighted rocker switch, i wired the PID directly into the power line. the power line went into my power strip.

a switch on the PID sucks because :

- it's two things to turn on to get my shot of espresso, and when i drag my arse outta bed in the morning, it's all i can do to remember to flip one switch.

a switchless, direct power PID sucks because :

- i have to remember to plug it in to turn it on, which is even lamer than a switch

clearly, there had to be a better way. there was: wire the PID into silvia's power switch, then i'd just turn it on same as i have done every morning since she's graced my counter.

i called up my EE paly and he said he'd come visit next weekend to help me wire the PID into silvia's switch.

but i was still hopped up on caffeine and getting boreder by the minute, so i did a bit of research. pepe has the bad-assest of all PID installations, but I didn't want to perform that level of surgery on silvia. so i followed just his power wiring instructions and modified them just a tad so i wouldn't have to shorten any of rancilio's factory installed wires.

rancilio did a beautiful wiring job, which made me feel totally inadequate, although the solution that I came up with for not shortening their wires made me feel a little clever (I'm sure it's a 1st-week-on-the-job electrician's trick, but i've never been an electrician).

so, eventually, i got it all wired up. i'm pretty handy now opening her up and i have a good idea of what all the wires do.

i worked out in my head why the PID install won't mess up the steam t-stat, though to be honest, i've made 1 cappa in the last 4 months so i wouldn't be terribly upset if the steam is now hosed.

now i've got one switch to turn on silvia and the pid, and i can spend next weekend with W. sweeet.

the switch on the PID enclosure is now purely for looks.

i tried to rewire it to get it to light up properly and i ended up fusing the switch. lucky i didn't kill the PID, silvia, or myself.

bleah.

i can't find my bluetooth usb interface

i have some badass pics on my phone, but until i find this thing, they're stuck there.

i looked all over, to no avail. ugh.

i found my old micro-tripod, stuck in my couch. good news, but still:

micro-tripod : $3
bluetooth usb key : $30

ugh.

there's nothing better than approaching a slope, grade, or incline, doing a double-take on the street sign, and thinking: "didn't this used to be a hill?"

there's nothing worse than a 2-block energy burst 3 blocks before the finish line.

no, i'm not doing some kinda funky boxing footwork move. i'm trying to remove my pants from my ass crack.

i am the great cornholio!

i need teepee for my bunghole!

heh heh heh heh. bungholio! heh heh heh. corn.... holio! heh heh. heh heh heh heh. are you threatening me?

while i had my tools out and was feeling all capable and handy (not to mention a little bored) i removed rocky's portafilter holder. the way he dispenses grounds, they go flying everywhere if you leave the pf in the holder, and if you're dispensing grounds for drip or french press, it's tough to get a receptacle under the dispenser and above the pf holder.

well, without the holder, both problems are solved. just stick the pf flush against the hold and dispense away. much less mess. cool.

my pid installation works.

it fargen rules.

i pulled my first shot, boiler temp set to 230.0F, "sweetness" blend espresso from barefoot in SC, not the freshest, but that's okay. it was the bitterest espresso i've ever made. awful.

set the PID to 228.0F, same grind, tamp, dosing, pulled another shot:

much much better!

still kinda bitter, but noticeably far better than the first!

got my money's worth on this one, i guess.

let's see, how much was my money's worth?

PID + SSR + thermocouple : $165
shit i bought at fry's : $40
shit i bought at home depot : $30
shit i bought at radio shack but didn't use and am going to return and therefore doesn't count : $15

so, that's... $235. ouch! still cheaper than an andreja.

and i've got some tools and stuff for future projects. yeah!

i finally did it.

i PID-ed silvia.

before

after

PID isn't really a verb except for in the alt.coffee universe. as you can see, the wiring situation is now totally out of control. i followed Murphy's advice and got an extra long thermocouple wire, now i regret it. the shorter one would have been plenty long. now i've gotta trim this one and rewire it. bleh.

i also used a really small project box, just barely big enough as long as i bend some wires. there's a lighted rocker switch on the back. the switch part works, but the light doesn't stay on, it just flashes when i flip it on. probably going to burn my apt down some day, oh well.

the hardest part was wiring up the switch, which wasn't covered in murph's walkthrough. i'm no electricial, so i had no clue. fortunately, i had an EE on call who walked me through it.

the other hardest part was cutting up the project box. now i'm a coping saw expert. and i think i voided the warranty on my knife. shoulda drilled it, oops!

still waiting for it to warm up so i can run the autotune and finally pull some shots. yum.

seriously.

i don't often have much patriotic pride, considering it silly to take pride in the location where one's mother happened to pop one out.

however, to my own surprise, my blood begins to boil whenever i come in contact with british (or american, for that matter, but british especially) royalty.

to paraphrase kevin smith :

All they ever do is get high and tell stupid jokes that only stoners would get. fuck the british royalty. fuck them in their stupid asses.

i am with you

i like my $15 haircut.

and at that price, i can have one every week!

dj shadow "private press" just came on my mp3 player, and suddenly, totally, immersively, i am in my car, window down, sunlight, fresh air, driving along the road (232?) between arroyo grande (i think) and lake lopez. i'm in my hotel room in AG. i'm winding up the road to the beachwalk. i'm experiencing two very different SLO trips at once, two very different beach walks, two very different drives, two very different hotel stays.

one with W, and one without.

all within the first couple of words of the spoken-word intro to the album.

who needs lsd flashbacks?

whatever

so i've had this funky taste in my mouth since 1/1/2005

not sure what it is.

kinda like permanent morning breath, kinda like a salty sensation on the back of my tongue, very difficult to describe, not particularly pleasant, and omnipresent except during meals and the 5 or so minutes after meals.

i went to the doc today for a physical and didn't mention the taste. why? i don't know. it's freaking annoying and kinda gross but it's not a broken arm or high blood pressure so i just let it go. usually, this sorta thing goes away by itself in a couple of weeks. it felt like it was fading the past couple of days, too.

not. it was back full blast once i got in to work, of course. bleah. bleeeeaaaaahhhhgggh.

so after lunch, i ate a mess of wintergreen altoids once my gum lost its power to hide the icky flavor.

then, on a lark, i swallered one whole, on the principle that that is how "breath-assure" and similar anti-halitosis remedies operate.

well, that seems to have worked pretty well.

ugh. so i've got a leak in my tracheal one-way valve. just what i need.

i am gifted with a body. it used to be flabby and weak. now it is less so. i have all my limbs and extremities, my original set of organs, and no major injuries. as such, i use my body. more on this later.

i am gifted with a mind. i have mental talents. my ironic sense of false humility prevents me from listing them. suffice it to say, i have some. some are rare. some are not. some are well developed. some are not. i use my mind. more on this now.

i use my mind and body because i have them. if there is a Creator, my worship of Him consists of using the gifts with which He has blessed me.

if there is no Creator, still, i choose to not neglect myself. to neglect myself is a shameless waste. i view what i have as precious, and i am tremendously thankful that i am still intact. i manifest my gratitude by not neglecting the objects of my thankfulness. i realize that over time, i'll more or less fall apart, so i ought to use and enjoy what i've got while i still have it.

this is a relatively new realization.

by using my mind and body, i develop them. as one develops, so does the other.

this is a relatively new realization.

in the hoary, distant past, i did not have these attitudes. i let my body - and, to be honest, my mind - go to poo, to waste, to disrepair. i paid for my neglect with misery and malfunction, of both the mind and the body. when i realized my mistake, i took steps to remedy it, and i remain still on the proper path, much longer than the national averages, for whatever that's worth.

aside from the religious/bs/metaphysical justifications, mind-body tinkering is just plain fun. i program computers for a living, and as a hobby before that. what more fascinating computer is there than the human mind? what more complex and satisfying machine is there than the human body?

/me out

but im not the only one
i hope some day youll join us
and the world will live as one

got my physical.

bloodwork: super duper
cholesterol: super duper
(no, i didn't ask for numbers or a copy. maybe i yotta have.)
blood pressure : here's the good bit. 120-ish/70-ish on the left arm, but higher enough on the right arm to worry the doc a little bit. he said come back in a year and we'll see again. i asked if i should work on lowering the right-arm-BP and he chuckled.
those things on my legs : possibly vericose veins, don't worry unless they hurt, he sez
nuts : no hernias or tumors. the people out the window across the street got a good look too, ha ha ha.
ears : nothing between them

all in all, i'm in tip-top shape, still, or whatever. i'll probably die in a freak accident before sundown, but whattya gonna do, eh?

matt furey gave me a rug burn on my forehead.

on the way home from work, sitting in front of a closed railroad crossing, wondering where the hell the train was, i saw in front of me up in the sky a shooting star, streaking from left to right, up to down. it was long, and bright, and beautiful.

and i thought to myself: self, you're supposed to wish when you see a shooting star.

and the very next things that came to mind, the words that formed in my mind's ear, quickly and without searching, while not grammatically sound, were not lacking in truth or feeling:

i wish that she loves me.

i'll turn me off for now.

is that how it's got to be?

perhaps.

oh look, i was right

wwmd?

every decision is a death.

i came up with that one last night while i was high on life.

i'm rather fond of it.

here's one i thought up while taking my morning whiz:

a fairy dies with every fart.

you know, like how an angel gets it's wings -- oh, fine, nevermind.

of reading between the lines, because there are a lot of them and they're close together :

i love you.

otherwise, i wouldn't abort my pleasant isolation to attempt - and as usual, fail - to explain myself.

and i wouldn't feel compelled, as i do, to apologize for being me and not the perfect guy that maybe you thought i was.

inside, it's all steel.

i know why i make myself more complicated than i need to be :

i enjoy the mental exercise.

there, i'm being honest.

i need mental exercise. my life as it is doesn't provide me with enough, so i invent fantasies in my own mind, and for fun, believe some of them.

hooray!

it's easier than writing crappy fiction (so is blogging, for that matter!).

where was i, now?

oh yes. so, the question is, will i cut that shit out and simplify myself for the sake of those that wish to understand me - including myself?

they say you can't change people. my magic 8 ball says "ask again later."

plus nobody i know got killed in south central LA.
today was a good day.

the bush that i was beating around :

1) i'm freaking cold
2) i've been alone - one way or another - all my life
3) maybe i have grown to like it that way
4) you can take #1 in any way you like. remember that my patio door is open and it's probably about 40F outside.

did i live alone all that time out of (twisted) necessity, or because i enjoy being alone?

can i really change me, or is "new me" an illusion like everything else about me?

wait, don't answer that.

an answer will kill a future. let it lie, and let the paths of illusion in both directions last as long as they can. let the dreams continue.

today i didn't even have to use my ak.
i gotta say it was a good day.

i am a selfish person.

i don't think that will ever change, and i don't think it's unique to me. i may be unique in realizing this about myself.

few people ever bother to ask me what's wrong, possibly because i rarely let on that anything is wrong.

when i do get asked, i feel compelled to keep my problems to myself. everyone has their own things to deal with, nobody needs to be burdened with my problems in addition.

occasionally, though, i will unload a portion of my crap without prompting. my tone on these occasions is ironic, self deprecating, and never entirely serious. it's hard for me to be serious.

i don't think anyone really understands how serious i am when i quote bugs bunny and say "don't take life too seriously or you'll never get out of it alive."

i think too much.

i know i have fewer problems than most, and the biggest of my problems really isn't even my own. to think of it as my problem is another manifestation of selfishness. sigh.

it's this realization that makes me silent, i think, more than the altruism of keeping my loved ones unburdened by my problems.

i want to be self-sufficent. i want to be superman. i want to be jeremiah johnson. i want personal perfection. i want to need nobody. i do a pretty good job of it. or i did, at least.

i want to glide through life like a snake through water. undetected. making no ripples, affecting noone. going about my business and not bothering anyone, not bothered by anyone. beholden to noone.

and yet, that's not what i want.

i can't have it both ways. i know this, but i don't know how to reconcile my needs.

needs.

i don't want any needs.

wants and needs. wants and needs. we went over those back in grade school. take a list of things, divide them into wants and needs. wants in the left column, needs in the right column.

my want: to have no wants, only needs. i can't get rid of my needs.

i need :
- food
- water
- oxygen
- exercise

other people need social contact. i am not convinced that i need it. but i want it, sometimes.

sometimes i don't

i'm not consistent. that's something that i realized today.

i am chemical.

my moods and thoughts are chemistry. my chemistry is affected by the chemicals in my environment, the chemicals that i ingest, and the chemicals that i produce internally in response to external stimuli. my chemistry is not a constant.

my moods and thoughts are not a constant.

there is no "me".

i thought i knew me. you thought you knew me. we all thought we knew me. but there is no "me". i proved this when i made a new me. and then a new new me. and now, a synthesis of new new, new, and old me. a fourth me in barely as many months.

what's it all mean?

i realized this afternoon, as i underwent (prepare for tangent!)... something. a mild anxiety attack? nah. over caffeination? also unlikely. low blood sugar? perhaps. the cause isn't important, the realization is:

i'm not in control.

of anything. the most fundamental things: my mood, thoughts, emotions. my chemistry. i am bound by obligations that keep me from devoting the time i need to understanding myself enough to have the complete control that i desire (want!).

and yet, the obligations that bind me are all self imposed. illusory. i am completely free, more free now than i have ever been. i tried ceding control, letting go, going with the flow. i don't like it. it's not "me". and yet it is.

i lost my todo list.

it's silly to freak out about that. i don't freak out about things, and when i do, it's with irony. for laughs. making fun of myself and the sort of people that would freak out about anything. it is a method of control.

but i think i freaked out. my todo list is a promise to myself, a method of control. i'm not procrastinating, i'm just acknowledging that i haven't got enough time to do everything that i want to do. but i'll do all of it sooner or later, if i can remember it. and now, it's gone. what was on it? i don't know. things that i promised myself i would do. dreams.

lost dreams.

it's symbolic of my life.

i'm big into symbolism. why? because i've got a brain in my head. i surround myself with situations that do not challenge me. i've got spare cycles so i invent symbol systems and interpret life events in terms of those systems.

i've had to grow up rather suddenly. i'm drowning and pretending that i'm not. i watched "big fish" last night and cried quite a lot. uncontrollably, i should say. i know that if i thought about it i could figure out the exact reasons for my copious tears, but i don't want to know. i'm tired of my own bullcrap. mine and everyone else's.

i've had to do the thing that i've always feared: define myself. say absolutely, "this is me," draw my hand through the air and say "this is not me." all the things that are me are over here, and everything else - the not-me - is over there.

i make choices, and by my choice, i close off a future. a path that i cannot now tread. a future - a life - that i will not ever live, now. a lost dream. an ended life. a death.

every decision is a death.

i've never had to choose anything important. self-sufficiency is an excuse for self-isolation. an excuse for social withdrawal. an excuse for not having obligations to others. for not having control over others.

i have control over others, and i don't want it. i don't have control over me. that's all i want. i won't ever have it, and that bothers me.

every decision is a death.

every choice answers the question: what kind of a man am i?

sometimes, the answer to this question can't honestly be predicted ahead of time. would i take a bullet for my family? sacrifice my own life to save another's? i can't say honestly ahead of time.

but i've gotten my answer to this question - what kind of a man am i - in less severe forms. some of the answers i like. some of them i don't. but now i know.

now i know what kind of a person i am. i was trying never to find out. damn.

i ramble. my thoughts are disorganized. they flow, but the connection between thoughts is tenuous. there is no direction. no conclusion. no purpose.

my thoughts are an allegory of life. chaos. sigh. i understand myself so well, but i cannot put me into words. i keep hoping that someday, someone will have enough of a picture of me to show me myself, in reflection. but how can i ever paint that picture of me on the canvas of another mind if i cannot produce the paint - the words that describe me.

ugh. that's enough thinking for now. what good has thinking ever done for me?

no, that's not enough. thinking is the only thing that's ever done me any good. i've figured out quite a lot of shit. i even figured out that it would be a good idea to stop thinking for a while. was that me, or a character i invented in my mind, in the stories i tell myself to pass the time?

i don't know. i am a character in my own mind, playing an unscripted part in the comedy of my life, a comedy that i have never taken seriously.

but i can't stop thinking. i'm compelled to understand the reasons for my behaviour, or to fool myself with plausible explanations.

do i do the things i do because i am lazy and frightened and want to avoid the death of decision, or do i do them because of some ephemeral "me" that behaves with a certain pattern, a pattern that cannot be suppressed and will always resurface?

in other words... all of this mess... in other words:

is "new me" all bullshit?

some guy at work keeps asking me what color treatment i put in my hair (perhaps because my hair is black while my beard is auburn).

sorry to disappoint you, yo, but there's no colorizing chemicals in there. it's all me, babe. i was born this sexy.

Central to the enjoyment of the ritual is the use and appreciation of fine equipment. Espresso making is no different than any other enthusiasm. A Leica camera takes the same photos a Minolta does, but the Leica’s highly engineered precision and fabulous quality make picture taking more enjoyable for knowledgeable photographers. The pleasure of using superior equipment is something enthusiasts are willing to pay extra for.

i have a pair of caterpillar work boots, and a pair of milspec jungle boots.

i have several pairs of "work socks" (socks designed especially for boots like my cats) and several pairs of thorlos combat socks (socks specially designed for combat boots (which are the same thing as jungle boots as far as the fit is concerned, they differ mainly in materials).

well, i've been wearing the jungle boots a lot lately, because they're really getting comfortable and it's been wet and they're good for wet weather. (i haven't worn the cats in a long time because they're regular width and i'm a wide.) consequently, i'm out of clean combat socks. so i put on a pair of work socks and laced up the jungle boots.

ugh.

they're not balanced properly. they're thick in all the wrong places and thin in all the wrong places.

bleh.

found on mefi:

"What I look for as a sign of promise in a young writer's writing is an evident love of words themselves, a sensuous delight in phonemes and the weighting of phrases and sentences."

check out the links right above the dropdown box.

heh.

went around this weekend to several local thrift shops.

why?

1) had no better ideas
2) always wondered what i'd find there

ended up getting a couple of shot glasses and demitasses (espresso cups). the shot glasses are both 1oz, not big enough for a standard double shot. so i decided to try a ristretto (on purpose - i've pulled "ristrettos" before because of grinding errors, heh).

1 oz of pure, beautiful, dark brown crema in 28 seconds. i may just have to throw out my demitasses and always pull ristrettos.

this is fargen delicious.

none of yous would like it, though. pah.

(actually, i think the grinder had some leftover drip-grind kona in there, despite my best efforts at cleaning. i wonder if that's adding to this wonderful flavor. might be.)

out clothes shopping with W jesterday, and she asks me:

"how's this jacket look on me?"

to which i replied:

"you're asking me for fashion advice?" as i gestured at my own ensemble : an un-belogoed orange shirt hanging over my black OTB convertable cargo pants with color-coordinated browned belt (was black when i bought it, damn yous!), the bottoms of which were neatly tucked in to my dusty (now slightly muddy) scuffed up jungle boots. accessorized with an in-the-pocket clip on pocketknife and a really overgrown head of hair. in nordstroms.

"yeah, bad idea," she agreed.

in the last week, even though i have owned him for aboot 6 months now, i finally used rocky for something other than espresso. twice. i used him for a supahfine turkish grind (which rhymes if you say it right, byotch). then just now i used him for a drip filter grind. and this time i didn't even write down the setting he was on for espresso (14), i trusted in my own memory. yeah!

anyhow, rocky + paper filter = no sludge at all. my first sludge free cup of coffee, heh. i'm not sure i like it that way ;0

the cost of my haircuts has been halving, roughly, for the past 2 haircuts.

first two cuts : $55 each, plus "product", no tip because i'm too awkward to slip a stylist a fiver
third cut : $30, no tip
today : "great clips" (hey, these guys are a chain! didn't realize that until it was "too late". also, their webpage model is kinda ugly)
: $14 plus tip.

seems okay, though i gotta take a shower (third today!) because unlike a $55 haircut, a $14 haircut comes with clippings down my shirt, no extra charge!

they glopped on some American Crew Citrus Mint Finishing Cream, which smells real nice and doesn't leave my hands sticky (unlike my own, personal finishing cream... uh... nevermind). none in stock, nor did they have it at the nearby beauty emporium.

oh well, i've got too much "product" already.

comcast, no doubt as "a service to their users" switched from ATT's venerable old nntp servers to giganews. the giganews account is limited to 1GB/mo.

so i downloaded a couple of mp3 albums from my favorite mp3 binaries group, and by the time i'm done, giganews has sent me a "you've used up 75% of your monthly allotment!" email.

this blows.

i used to find cool new music (well, new to me) by just downloading whole newsgroups and listening and deciding what i liked.

guess that particular avenue of pleasure has been cut off (ooooh, fawlty towers ref. i rule.).

bleh.

http://host1.cj-8.com/index.html

just catching up on some maxed out feeds on bloglines.

went to look at my reuters feed, which i hadn't checked in many months. the second one from the top said:

Arafat Gets Virus Tests, Aides Say He in Command

CLAMART, France (Reuters) - Yasser Arafat underwent tests for viral infection and other ailments on Sunday after initial checks ruled out leukemia and any life-threatening illness, aides to the Palestinian leader said.

harharharhar.

the boss had a paper weight on his desk. i hadn't seen it before, though i've been to his office plenty of times, so i assume it was an xmas gift. even so, it looked kind of beat up, not brand new.

it occurred to me that at some point in life, a person has received so many gifts and acquired so much other crap, that all that remains for a gift giver to give, is....

a used paperweight.

fact 1 : several months ago i blew forty quatloos on a beard trimmer
fact 2 : it has sat (virtually) locked in a drawer since then because i cut too short
fact 3 : with a long beard, i look kind of scuzzy
fact 4 : it gets in the way sometimes
fact 5 : i'm always playing with it, ick.

so.

i wonder, is it time to bring my fancy beard trimmer out of retirement, or leave it in its drawer and just remove this thing with a razor?

hmmmm.

had a really really good shot this morn.

twas beeyootiful.

tiger stripes.

23 sweet seconds.

tryed a new tamping routine i found on a.c., plus temp surfing, and finally got the hang of, i reckon.

23 sweet seconds of tiger striped crema right into my 18/20 demitasse, then it was time for some yum.

the beans are about 3 weeks old, too, which is surprising. my home-roasteds should be ready for use tomorrow. yum.

i woke up with a phrase on my mind. ran to write it down so i wouldn't forget it, because damn, it's deep:

they finally stopped seeing a difference between the meatball and reality.

thank you, i'll be here all week.

you may think i have no idea what i am doing.
even i think that, sometimes.
but then i remember: no, i know exactly what i'm doing.
the same thing i've always done.
hooray!

if you drop half your breakfast yogurt on the floor,

your breakfast has half as many calories.

score!

i've had more beer in the last 2.5 weeks than i've had in the preceding 2.5 years.

today my pants feel too tight. connection? i know how to find out.

back on the wagon, baby!

If you don't like the story your life has become — tell yourself a better one.

Welcome to your new self.

someone mentioned that they thought i had named silvia myself. no, sorry, that's actually the name given to her by the manufacturer.

same goes for rocky

come on, i'm not so freakin obsessed as to name my coffee machine and grinder!

(i did name smokey, though. he was complaining that "fresh roast+ 8" just didn't have the right ring to it)

so, i've had this sony camcorder for about 3-4 years now. it's got night vision. i've always wanted to tape myself sleeping. why? not sure. but just for fun, i've also always spooked myself into thinking i'd see ghosts or demons or something like that if i did it. why? just for fun.

anyhow, last night i set up the tripod, switched the camera to LP mode, turned on the nightshot, and taped 4 hours of me sleeping. i reviewed only a couple of minutes (i'll do the rest later, maybe), but damned if i wasn't right!

there was someone else in bed with me! holy the crap!

oh, wait. yeah, she was supposed to be there.

har.

and no, it wasn't paris hilton. thank god.

so i went in today (finally) for the blood test that's sposed to happen before my yearly physical in 2 weeks. when i got there, they handed me a cup and asked me to pee in it.

uh...

you know, you really ought to tell a guy that he's gonna have to give a piss sample *before* he takes his morning whiz.

after that, it's not so easy.

so they loaded me up with water before i gave blood (ow).

then it was off to the pee sample room. after i'd filled the cup and stowed it in the locker, i washed my hands and glanced over the funky pee-test turlet. there's a sign explaining how to do the pee test.

they only wanted half a cup.

oops!

i always try to give 200%, i guess that's what i did this time.

for xmas, W's mom gave the two of us a starbucks gift box, containing whole bean xmas blend, some hot choco mix, and two kinds of cookies. by the time i got back to the bay, all but one of the shortbread cookies were gone (damn!).

when W told me what her mom had gotten, i put on my coffee snob airs and tried to be cute. "coffee snobs don't drink starbucks," i said (truthfully), or something to this effect. naturally, this was interpreted as ingratitude.

doh.

i may be a coffee snob (and a beer snob (and a grammar snob (and a grocery store snob (and maybe some other kinds of snob, too))), but i try not to be a selfish, ungrateful asshole.

whether i meant to be, i was, and i'm sorry. before the whole world (more precisely, for both people who read this (counting me)), i publicly apologize.

as i later explained to W, much to her surprise, i have never had starbucks coffee (that may not be totally accurate, but I will swear under oath that I have not had it more than twice. "never" is a dangerous word), just as i have never had budweiser, coors, miller, or the like (to this, I will swear under oath - excluding that one sip of bud-light my dad gave me when i was a kid).

as i explained, half-jokingly, to W my greatest fear was that upon tasting the starbucks coffee, i might find that i like it. this would surely be a breach of the coffeesnob contract.

i would lose my license.

now.

on to the tasting.

12 oz water was boiled on the stove in my saucepan. 2 SCAA scoops of starbucks 2004 christmas blend was ground with my solis maestro plus dialed in to halfway between "drip" and "esp", brewed with my #4 filter cone, "moka-brown" paper filter, and dripped into my brand new "grumpy U" coffee mug.

on opening the bag, i was not overwhelmed by the aroma of the beans, as i am when opening a bag of any of my own freshly roasted coffee. (score one for me).

likewise, the grinds did not emit the strong aroma of freshly roasted coffee that i get when grinding my own home-roasted beans (even after resting them 3+ days).

the coffee didn't bloom as much as home roasted, either (under the moniker "home roasted" i also include "craft roasted" coffee, such as barefoot roaster's beans).

so, vacuum packed starbucks coffee = not as fresh as home roasted. duh.

the aroma of the brewed coffee is also not as strong as home-roasted.

now, for a sip.

it's darkly roasted (duh, it's starbucks). "taste the bean, not the roast," say coffee snobs. in other words, don't roast the beans so dark that the individual regional characters of the beans are burnt away. in my own roasting, i prefer lighter roasts. i may not be as snobby as a real coffee snob able to pass a double-blind taste test and identify the regional beans in a cup of coffee, but i *am* able to say "this coffee is different from that coffee". i verified this over xmas with a cup of kona vs a cup of oaxaca.

blah blah blah.

back to the starbucks.

it's kind of weak. with the same amount of beans and water, my home-roasted kona produces a much more flavorful cup. the main characteristic is, as i mentioned (i think), the roast. this tastes like "dark roasted coffee", but not like any of the cool things that a decent palette can discern in a complex cup of coffee ("earthy", "toasty", "chocolatey", "nutty", etc.). it's decently balanced, i guess, not terribly bitter (surprising at this degree of roast) and not acidy (not at all surprising at this degree of roast). i don't drink a lot of blended coffee, mostly just single-region beans or espresso blends. consequently, i am not used to "balance" or "mildness". in fact, i'm bored by these things. i want boldness, bite, excitement. you know, like this

i've said it seven times already, and i'll say it again : i taste the roast. in fact, i can't really taste much else. peets also roasts very dark, but with peets, which i used to introduce myself to coffee, i could taste regional notes - or even blended excitement (dickason!). not so here.

ooh.

i think it's irritating my stomach. some coffee does that, and some (most?) does not. i haven't figured a way to predict which will and which won't. there doesn't seem to be a pattern. then again, maybe it's just my lunch.

overall : not as bad as i expected, but fortunately, not as good as i feared. definitely not as fresh as i am accustomed to, leading to weakness in aroma and flavor. probably better than grocery store brand or maxwell house or whatever, but i wouldn't know ;) i wouldn't turn down a cup of it to stave off caffeine withdrawal symptoms, unless there happened to be a cup of home/craft roasted kona nearby.

in the future i'll be a more gracious givee instead of a snobbish arsehole. there's a difference between being a real snob and an affected, ironic snob. the latter is my aim, nobody likes the former.

a strange feeling came over me on the N 101 this friday as I drove "home".

i am losing all associations that i may have had with the word.

in the span of one week, i had slept (or planned to sleep) at these places :

- my parents' home in palm springs
- my friend's parents' home in oxnard (notice that i know how to use apostrophe's)
- my girlfriend's home in oakland
- my own place in san mateo
- my friend's home in antioch (didn't end up doing that)
- a hotel (didn't end up doing that)

none of these places felt like "home", and at the same time, all of them did.

i've been seriously considering getting a new, smaller, cheaper place - since i now spend comparatively little time here. tragically, due to my terminal indecision, i'm unable to move out.

still, now, when i ask myself "where is home?" there is no obvious answer, and i think i like it that way.

the fewer things that i have, the less i have to lose. the less i have to lose, the less i have to worry about. and the less i have to worry about, the more i can focus on the important things. (this notion was clumsily alluded to in "resurrection".)

this is one of the cornerstones of """the "new me" revolution""", though it may not have been obvious. i am becoming the minimalist that i've always meant to be.

except in my writing, of course, where i have chronic oral diarrhea.

i woke up in the middle of the night. i believe this was the night of 12/30. i swallowed, and in my drowsy, unattentive state I was astonished that that act brought no pain, no discomfort, no resitricted range of motion.

for a change, it seemed I would not be sick for the new year.

it's 1/2 and so far all i've got is a persistent, really weird and slightly salty taste in my mouth. probably sweat-soaked cat hair or something. yum. but at least it's not a cold.

speaking of cold, that's something I was not the last two nights. though it was beyond cold in both sleeping locations the past two nights, and though i was minimally dressed, i awoke sweating.

huzzah.

i am fairly certain that today's deadlifts were the first ever that I have done while wearing boxer shorts.

i am beyond doubt that this fact was essential in the acheivement of a new PR.

the new schlock piece is now officially underway.

squeezed out a few paras at breakfast, then a few more over lunch.

i can already feel it spiralling out of my control, but that's the way it goes. i like how it's going so far, and i've got a lot of good (imho) ideas. this one ought to be a winner.

and : this one will have multiple developed characters, or it's going to be deleted.

since i did it last year, that makes it a tradition: new year's deadlift 1RM testing.

oddly enough, i evidently failed to record last year's new year's 1RM, but I remember that it was between 285 and 300. Probably 295.

this time, I pulled 335, 10lbs more than my previous DL 1RM, with no special DL training for many many months.

the logbook for today says:

DL : 2x4x185 3x205,255 2x295 1x335 + yell! 2x0x350

i tried twice for a 350, but failed. the second time, i didn't even see the swirly pretty colors. bogus!

this was with the mysteriously sore groin muscles and abs that i picked up some time after 1AM 1/1/2005. Hmmmm.

all this time, I had my terminology mixed up.

sure, I knew that you clip a yam.

i knew that you blast a dookie.

and i knew that you pinch a loaf.

but all this time, I thought you "drop" a grogan. turns out i was wrong. grogans are choked .

best. new years. ever.

didn't do much, tho it was more than i've ever done before.

drove up to SM from oxnard, that took a good 5-6 hours. unpacked a little, then off to berkeley to pick up W, down to oakland for some "i missed you" action, then concord for dinner, and finally to antioch for beers and monopoly until 1am.

yeah, that was my new years eve.

after that, back to oakland, to start off the new year the way every new year should start.

finally, up and at em at 1pm 1/1/05. something's different. i'm not sure what. we did a lot of talking in the dark. things were clarified (there are still things to clarify, even after all this time!). i left some things unsaid, but worry not: they will be spoken , soon enough (huh?).

but something's different.

i saw a lot of couples interacting over the last week. people I know well, with SOs. i paid attention, this time, because at last I can relate. i listened carefully to music lyrics (cried when eddie vedder sang "i know some day you'll have a beautiful life / i know you'll be a star / in somebody else's sky / but why, why, whyyyyy can't it be mine").

i think when i woke up today, i had an even greater appreciation for what i've got. i could feel a real difference in myself now (with W) compared to the past week (without W). with her, I am better, in so many ways.

with all the people i saw this past week, all the people in love, I thought: "yeah, that's probably love, but..."

"... but it's not like what I've got."

i'm sure it's silly to think that what i've got is unique throughout history, but it feels that way.