PDX over SFO

Special report from SFO: I am waiting on a delayed flight, sitting against a wall and damning for-profit WiFi access while I amuse myself in the digital jungle. I have experienced the tale of two airports, with PDX giving me no line at security, free WiFi, better snack places, and a somehow first class seat on my flight out; while SFO gives me a delayed flight, line at security, $6.00 WiFi, not the greatest iced tea, and a seat towards the rear. I will credit Alaskan Airlines for their rather comparatively good service, what with a free food voucher for my trouble during the delay. I'm not really too upset about any of this, but it would be nice to be nearly back by now.

Thanksgiving went well, with good food and a heap of lazy pie to nourish the workplace-hating soul, and a little time to reflect on everything that I've been a little mired in. I'm still 'not yet', but I've traveled away from the worry and unhappiness about it all. I figure the job part of life will have a better outlook after the holidays, and so will any number of other things. I'm not quite as sad as I was a couple of weeks ago, though life still feels a little appropriately flat. I'll get there; I feel like I have a lot of potential energy stored up, and once I find my outlets, I'll be off and running as I've intended to.

For now, I'll be content enough to share some warmth with my cats, watch some football, cook some food, and enjoy some impending holiday time with the family. Not much else to do.

--all on board--

Earthworm Digest 11:04:07 -- Today we celebrate 'daylight standard time'...

i. Table of Contents
ii. State of the Union
iii. Picture Pages
iv. Reviews & Awards

ii. The most recent news since last post is, very sadly, the passing of my step-father, Charlie Brooke. I was back in Iowa for about a week and a half, though it felt far longer than that. I'll write much much more on Charlie soon, but I'm spending some time and care in putting all of it together, so it is not ready to come out yet. In the meantime, I can tell you that in returning to Portland from all that surrounds his passing, life feels very different. It's not a major change--no dramatic life shifts or changes in philosophy--but it's something far more subtle. I have a different sense of determination, of adherence to what really matters to me, and confidence. It's not yet significant, but more like a new bud emerged on my branches. Charlie inspired me in many ways over the years, and something in being a part of a bigger process to honor him led me to really reflect on his influence, on what he meant to me and to my family, and what he gave me, directly or indirectly, that I am able to carry onwards for him.

Outside of this major happening, life continues in the slow holding pattern that is hunting for a job. Previous leads--including New Seasons--have dried up, and having been completely out of the process for a couple of weeks puts me back at a bit of a beginning. I'm not frustrated or dissuaded in any way; I'm rather more glad to have a clean slate to be working from. Reset has always been a beneficial option--just as long as I remembered to save beforehand.

One thing that has directly come out of reflecting on Charlie is a renewed interest in volunteering for Habitat for Humanity. While much of their construction is done during the work week, it is still possible to work at the ReStore on Saturdays, and so I have signed up to do so. Should do my first shift this Saturday, and I'm looking forward to it. Now that the stress of school has largely left, I'm wanting something more to do. Sure, watching shows like The Wire and The Sopranos are fun, and I'm enjoying reading in a leisurely manner, but I haven't ever really been one that's been happy with simply work followed by laziness. Time to get back to living the way I most enjoy, which means fully and filled with activities and people I enjoy.

iii.

The Apartment... revealed!

The cactus... blooming like mad!

I be in your cellar, drinking your vintage.

My cats approve of IKEA furniture.

Mt. Tabor in the Fall #1

Mt. Tabor in the Fall #2

Hazy skies above a colorful S.E. Portland.

iv.

I just downloaded the FLAC-encoded version of the Trent Reznor-produced album by spoken word deity Saul Williams, "The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust." Two things in the review: 1.) the album is very interesting, having a lot of the sonic-patchwork feel of "Year Zero" with the tremendous lyrical stylings and voice talents of Mr. Williams, who could put nearly all of the modern day rappers to shame, and 2.) The FLAC encoding, which I was not familiar with until this offering, should be the next little bump in technical decoding for consumer digital audio, as with hard drives growing exponentially larger in given time periods, there's little storage reason not to have something as near lossless in audio quality for encoding/producing/copying audio. I burned this into a CD, put it on the system, and it was as fine of a sonic bath as any previous commercial audio release, barring only a few, and it clearly out shined any previous simple CD burning, no matter the program or previous mp3 encoding rate.

I caught The Simpsons Movie a little while back, and it was worth the time. The gags that were classic--like the skateboarding bit--were obviously rooted in the original writers and those who really helped the series flourish back in the seasons under number 10, and while Homer and some of the gags--the motor cycle thing just came out of nowhere!--were seemingly from their present day incarnation, it wasn't far gone enough to get in the way. I think grabbing it and season 10 on DVD will put the closing punctuation on the long love affair that I have been in with America's favorite jaundiced family.

One show that should have gone ten-plus seasons is certainly Arrested Development. I just finished that, and while the last few episodes had a we're-being-canceled-and-have-to-wrap-things-up-nicely feel to them, the series as a whole stands out as a superb achievement of intelligent humor in a tv schedule soaked in crap sauce. I also just wrapped up season 2 of The Wire, that, while it started slow and didn't seem like it would ever be as tight as the first season, ended in such a compelling and marvelous fashion that I was restored to true believer status. The one very high praise I can say about it--or at least 95% of it, which is an awfully high benchmark to set--is that it is never trite or arbitrary, even when it twists and turns, and even when it happens to wrap up some loose ends.

Michael K. Williams, who plays Omar, my award for best written character in years, on The Wire, is the brother of Saul Williams. That makes two siblings in two types of media on my tops of culture list. Crazy.


District B13, action galore from France, was loaned to me by the guru Victor, and it was worth its 84 minutes run time. While I can't claim it wasn't trite or arbitrary, it was certainly a frenetic little white-boy smack-around, like a duet of pale Tony Jaa's had to do stunt action moves around a horde of Fast & Furious wanna-be's in some proto-punk future vision of a Paris slum, with some morality tale thrown in there for basic plot nutrition requirements, with a hot-girl-kisses-action-dude happy ending. The funny thing is, it's not nearly as lame as it sounds, nor as over the top; stylish without being ridiculous.

Brain running out of steam, time for bed.

--will be served--

looking (not too far) ahead

Time to write again, my head is saying; Autumn has somehow crept up on me and taken me by surprise, taking me, with the accompaniment of the job search doldrums, to a head full of a rainy drone and question marks. As I might say, the usual.

There are many story ideas, having been growing in my head like a bacteria culture in a petri dish for many years, that seem near a state of maturation and readiness to be somehow told. Perhaps with the newfound luxury of time on my hands, I can begin to get into a routine of doing some writing everyday, much like I am now doing with regular exercise. If my undersized self can manage ten pull ups, ten push ups, and forty sit ups (alternately, five pull ups, twenty push ups, and forty sit ups) four to five times a week, then I think I can manage to begin doing a half an hour of writing work that many times (at least) a week as well. I should say it's about damn time; if I can get a few outline sketches out there, something could start to form. I should really give that some thought, as it may be a worthwhile (and an I'm-looking-like-I'm-working) distraction from the mind- and soul-numbing work that is the life of an administrative assistant in a House of General (and Specific) Dysfunction like the current rehab facility I can't seem to get out of fast enough. I mean, our clients, who come in with practically nothing to call their own (or themselves) can get out of rehab in six months with a new job and living space; I have the new digs, but it's been five years, and I'm still not out of rehab? Note: this is currently my favorite way to make fun of my new-job-less situation; describing it as not being able to get out of rehab can get me some amusing looks.

On the new job front, I should be hearing something this week, whether positive or negative. That is, at least, what I have been led to believe.

The christmas cactus is showing a plethora of bloom sprouts already; this appears to be a colorful year for my kitchen table. I re-potted it recently, and while that procedure was quite the fiasco, it has plenty of room to grow now and will likely just take off again once the flowers have been shed. My adopted plants from Ivy are thriving, I am happy to report, and the cats are well, so the whole act of sustaining living things does not seem to be too terrible of one for me. Perhaps a small herb garden is next, with some peppermint, basil, and rosemary, at the least...

--fruicy--

The spices! THE SPICES!!

I have found the pumpkin beer to end all pumpkin beers: Shipyard Brewery's Pumpkinhead Ale, out of Portland, ME. While Buffalo Bill's tastes sort of like a thin beer with some vague pumpkin spices that peter out by the last quarter of the bottle, and Harvest Moon is sort of like Blue Moon with a slight flavor change, Pumpkinhead is like drinking pumpkin pie. It doesn't taste like flavoring, nor like nasty store bought pumpkin pie, but like a bubbly version of thick, well-spiced, homemade pumpkin pie. I swear I even detect a taste of crust in there, and dark brown sugar. It even has a parody of the old headless horseman pose from The Legend of Sleepy Hollow on the label.

Outside of fall finds, the cats and I, like the dude, abide. Outside of a couple of e-mails from New Seasons saying that they had a huge response to the job posting, nothing definite there yet. I'm going to contact them again this week, and then Louise (my Intel contact who helped me out a bit with it), to see what the situation is. I'm overdue on a new career course here, so here's hoping things start working out for it soon.

Arrested Development should never have been canceled; in fact, it should have been picked up by HBO or someone like that, so that they could make it even more edgy, though the censoring of it, I think, enhanced the humor of it most of the time. I'm glad Futurama movies are starting to come out, and I think there should be something like this done with AD. Also, I'm only two episodes in, but The Wire has its hooks in me already. Solid, intriguing stuff, and I've heard it only gets better.

Monster.com finding jobs for me? Pssht, please. False advertising, for sure.

--crisp--

opportunity/appeal

During some lazy football watching this evening, I was checking out some job boards and such, wanting to, oh, find new employment. There's not always a large amount of good looking jobs out there--sort of like ties--but every so often something shiny and pretty comes into view.

In this case, New Seasons--dream employer #1--has a few HR positions open, the best sounding of which was the HR Coordinator. I went to work putting together as attractive of a cover letter as I could, and applied. I didn't really think that something like this would really come along, so it has me a bit excited. I really want them to give me a call for an interview, and it would be such a trip to work there. So, any spare karma you may have, mentally mail it my way and I'll stir it into the mojo.

I would kick a whole lot of ass if I got this job. For sure.

That's really about it. Life is all right. Not many lingering questions today.

Plus, ice cream. Coming soon... to my stomach!

--like a normal human being--

zzzzap.

I spent some quality time the other day looking over the Wikipedia articles concerning the Milgram experiment and the Stanford prison experiment. I had a head full of noise about it while reading, but I'll give you a few thoughts instead of some diatribe:

1.) How prescient were these two experiments, but also how timeless. Obviously we're still not heeding them, as smart as we are, and, doomed, repeat these mistakes. Also, while the Milgram experiment can probably be justified to be done again at some point, the Stanford one probably wouldn't, especially considering the lack of oversight and controls in the experiment. I think it would be a good one to evolve and have controls and rules that mirror that of our prison system, rather than just general captivity anarchy--though Abu Ghirab was a good repeat, I suppose.

2.) I found it very interesting that, in one variation of the Milgram experiment, subjects showed greater conformity to expert instruction in an environment that appeared more reputable or official. In my mind, the implications there are immense. Extrapolate, and talk amongst yourselves.

3.) Zzzzzzap. "Question Authority."

--cursed me when I proved to him--

tangents, ho!

Today was not the most appealing day, in many ways. While temperate, it was humid and stuffy there was salisbury steak offered at lunch--a meal that at both the visually aesthetic and culinary notion levels I quite disagree with--which sent me thinking of where I could find a croissant sandwich, something a little bit missing in the land of artisan breads and chewy french rolls; Office Depot shorted me again; websites didn't work when I wanted them to; traffic was bad; and then there was the latest on the exit project.

I'm incredibly annoyed by the state of this exit project. First, I feel like I'm the only one with initiative. I'm certainly the only one who seems to adhere to the deadlines, or think that agreed upon meeting times mean that we have agreed to schedule those meetings into our days. I will point out the next steps, or request information or feedback, and, yet, I don't hear anything back. Second, I'm tired of my other two classmates' shit. They're headcase Type As without much experience or cred and they don't like each other much. They'll get into these little back-and-forths over e-mail to one another, but not with the group. Just tonight one of them tried to pass the other one on to me, and I have a half a mind to just tell them that this sort of crap at this stage of the project--one week away from presenting--is unacceptable. That coupled with their lack of initiative and output has me, to paraphrase Corky from Waiting for Guffman, tired of them and their ass-faces.

Third, and of greatest offense to all the effort that I've put into this whole master's degree experience, is the criticisms offered by our faculty adviser. I've spent the better part of the last month getting together a very good research section on personality measurements and their correlations to coping with stress. In contrast to the sad sack that was my Paideia 'research paper' at Luther, this is pure gold. Thirteen pages of well-researched and well-written information, very appropriate and useful to the company we're working with. I may sound like I'm tooting my own horn a little--and I am--but certainly compared to the ugliness that are the other sections--I think Ms. Schwartz would rotate her head completely around and projective vomit raw sewage and rats if she read what one of my group mates wrote--it's quality. Our adviser, the global HR expert and business school dean, says that the company isn't interested in all that information, that it needs more charts, graphs, bullet points, and simple language. In essence, that the research should be dumbed down. Okay, so I was hoping for a little recognition, a little "see what Ben did? You other two numbskulls should get on the ball!" or something like that, but the principle still stands: this should not be dumbed down or made into some damn chart with smiles and rainbows and crayon letters. Maybe I'm more about org. psych than HR; the one thing I do know is that while my research dealt with the Five Factor Model--an extensively researched and validated model of personality--our adviser recommended looking into the 'Cross Cultural Adaptability Inventory', which had two articles associated with it in EBSCOhost, one of which had an abstract that said the CCAI was not shown to be valid in its measurements. This is higher learning?

Then again, I get the sense that half of HR is marketing anyway, and those who know what I correlate general marketing or development positions to can picture my just-bit-a-lemon face; those who don't, I consider them to be 'pros'. The one speaker we had during the program that made the most sense--the same one that basically said we weren't going to be making a real difference right out of grad school (and I agree)--had become successful through not only implementing plans to develop and improve employees, but had concise and effective measurements to back it all up. I think 'no duh'; it seems that others want 'oooh, shiny.' So it goes.

That's it; I'm going to go write about football for a minute.

--la dee dah da dee dah dah--

One more time!

Yup. One more silly-hat graduation ceremony under the belt. This time I got a fancy hood! It was a good time; nice to have a bit of recognition.

That said, I still have two weeks of busy work on the final project before I'm completely done. Just two weeks and I can put a big check mark in the 'finish school' box on my to-do list.

I can't wait.

--wizard of--

get your fix

A good waste of time.

A better waste of time.

--eeeeeeeee-vreeeeeee-dayyyyyyyy--

pulse: check.

First off, weekly classes are finished. This has been celebrated in an appropriately minor way, since it was an appropriately minor happening. It does feel nice, but it's a little like feeling satisfied with the sand castle I built while a large wave draws its shadow over me.

There is still the exit project to finish up, and a job to find. The exit project is moving, but not quite as quickly as I would prefer. We may be hastening our time frame, which is fine by me, but we can set dates even more easily than we can not meet them. Here's hoping the whole team gets to work here with the passion of an over-caffeinated monkey at a drum set.

The job hunt continues; I think I've applied to five or six jobs by now. NetFlix, posh downtown hotel chain, Umpqua Bank, Mercy Corps, Columbia... and I think one else, but I can't be sure. I'm trying to find at least one a night to apply for, especially since it takes me over an hour to find, resume tweak, and cover letter write for each one. Combine that with the need to eat, research, relax, and sleep, and it all makes for some busy evenings.

At least I still have some good music and a couple of cats that like to hang around with me as I work here in the new place. I'll put pictures up soon, but there's just something about a rug, some hardwood floors, some paint on the walls, and a couple of decent lamps that is helping right now. I'm also grateful to Ivy for a couple of new plants to be able to look at; they definitely add to the room. I need to put up my pictures and really have it start to come together and feel a little more like my space.

Wow, is my brain tired. I think I'll shut it off for a while, watch some Sopranos, and eat some ice cream. Almost there. Cross your fingers for me and I'll do the same for you.

--REFILLS--

shorter, even.

New for this fall: The football blog!

--play fantasy football--

Short and Weird

What my former landlord was up to when she sort of disappeared before I moved.

Now it all makes sense.

Or not.

--pay to the order of--

Summer Harbingers

Murray warns of things to come... EVIL things to come... MWA HA HA HAAA!

I may just be a marked man. Today, as I got back to my car from my afternoon purchase of sour cream (not a regular event), I noticed a small brown wrapper smooshing something into the surface of the trunk of my car. A brown wrapper, like one you might see holding a peanut butter cup. Of course, my immediate thought was that this was some sort of legume mafia warning, but I cannot think of what they would warn me away from. Don't go to work? Okay. Stay away from Fred Meyer? Sure thing. Anyhow, I'm going to be on the look out for local Hershey's goons--or sticky fingered children--from now on.

The good news is that the first step in come of the coming changes--the new apartment--is taken care of. A neat little two-bedroom in a neat little plex near neat little Mount Tabor is where I'll be heading over to, piece by piece, come June 20th. The landlady seems totally cool, having reserved petting rights for the kitties, and it just overall feels like a good piece of change to have happen. I'm thinking it will help keep the wheels moving for the next big change--job--as well as give me the chance to really set up a place to my current habitation preferences. Plus, it's a total pad, sure to impress all the babes (ha!). The poor kitties, though; I don't think they have any clue that they're moving yet. I'm sure once things are really getting packed up they'll flip out, but for now they're getting their fill of the pleasant Portland summer evenings we're having.

Oh, summer in Portland, the return of the season of the freak. Everybody (and their dog) are out doing all sorts of outdoors activities, bums you haven't seen for months are branching out to bigger and better streets, and the farmer's markets are singing their sweet, sweet siren's song into my ready-to-make-a-pie hands. If it wasn't for this whole, oh, school/work/graduation/new job/exhaustion thing, I'd be all over it. Honestly, I'm still trying to fully recuperate from all this past business. The clouds are beginning to part, all right, and restful sanity, in all its glory, is beginning to reemerge in the puddle of vanilla pudding that is my brain.

One of the better rehabilitative activities I took part in this past weekend was burning up the dance floor at the Lola's Room 80's night extrava-ma-ganza. There was reminiscing with a rock star's wife about good music from the past couple of decades, much dancing, good conversation with an attractive girl I'd previously found myself interested in (a very welcome and pleasant surprise), the flurry of sensation that is pulsing 80's pop among a writhing crowd of tail shakers, the look-back after the drop off of aforementioned female, and such a satisfying drive back to home through a beautiful summer night. A few more of those evenings and I may just yet fully feel like myself again. I mean, rest and socialization on a full weekend! Who would have thought?

So, who knows; maybe these warm winds coming in are bringing better opportunities to grab hold of and make the most of. Perhaps the muse is coming back in new forms, or perhaps there's still plenty of rock face to climb before the next plateu is fully realized. Regardless, just like that first breath of new oxygen as the warm months arrive, I'm finding the taste of new opportunities to be sweet and envigorating, with little doubt that I am going to be making the most of what comes my way; the promise of sunshine is coaxing me out into the open and keeping me moving.

Oh, that and vanilla ice cream with bananas and cinnamon. Mmm.

--yo, que pasa--

job posting

I read over some old (and good!) writings of mine, and I have to announce that I am now accepting applications for a muse. My mind is tilled and aerated, but has yet to sprout a new season's growth of decent poetic outpourings. All school and work and so little play make Ben something something... like lose touch with the writing aspect of things. Me not write inspiration well without. Almost done, though. Almost there. I'm starting to smell it in the air. It's either that or more people grilling out. I just can't tell these days.

Also, I believe in resistance. I figured that out tonight.

I believe in marsala marinated mushrooms on pizza; another thing I figured out tonight.

Really, there's just nothing else to say. Pay attention to your punctuation, kids; it matters more than you'll ever know.

--yeah/yeah--

"I (uh) must go on standing, you can't break that which isn't yours..."

It was a nice weekend in Manzanita. Time was spent in a Monopoly match, tortilla making, eating copious amounts of food, engaging in conversation, crossword puzzling, and the deep sort of sleep one can only get when exhausted and sleeping on the floor in a comfortable environment. It was just the sort of respite I had been looking for, where time returns to its slow mode and all present could follow such a pace. Moments of motion were balanced with moments of stillness, and nothing needed to be done, necessarily. I had plenty of time to think and discuss and think some more, and joining in with quite the cooperative group was welcome and healing. It may have been my last short breath of fresh air before I have to dive under again and see these next changes through.


I had dreams of working at Movie Madness, where they now had a microbrewery, arcade, and theater. It was a comedy contest night, and as we watched the amateurs do their routines (some involving strange metal cages, fire dancing, and near-drowning) I realized that my set was to go on right after Robin Williams. I talked with him about it, and decided I needed to head out to the bathroom in order to put my act together--something about honoring Robin first, then talking about crack, then on to other issues, then back to crack and doing the crack dance. There were some other dreams of a little bit of conflict, some with comfort, and they were all very clear and distinct, under complete control. I stayed in my sleeping bag for a while enjoying the line in between waking and sleeping, meditating on the images and thoughts still swimming through my head.


I thought quite a bit about friends and dreams and being twenty-seven. There was a variety of ages, origins, and ideologies present in the beach house, and while sometimes I felt connected, I still felt quite adrift. I've always been the weird kid in one way or another, never completely feeling like I fit in, and while sometimes I have relished in this, it definitely adds its own hue to seeking community. Certainly, the connections I make are strong ones and endure quite a bit of time and tide, although there are not as many of them--especially in Portland--as I would like. I always feel like I'm capable of so much, but then my world always seems so small; this is hard to reconcile. Here I am at 27, making changes, having realizations, still single, with a head entirely too full of questions. I am entirely too glad for music because of this.


I nabbed some new music shortly before I left, indulging in a new release by DJ Jazzy Jeff, some Regina Spektor on recommendation, and Freezepop. So far it's been the perfect fit for the moment. Like many other songs, it courses through my brain and lights up a variety of synapses, from current events to nostalgic memories to hopes and dreams (especially Regina Spektor). I certainly find release in taking 4/4 measures one note at time; there is the simultaneous feeling of emotional connection and mental motion. I gave one of the fellow beachgoers a ride home, and I'm finding that I can't quite get into music when listening to it with a stranger. I can go on road trips on my own or with people I know well, but this trip back and the one before taught me a lot about what it's like to drive with those that you don't know quite well; what it's like when the conversation is nice and speeds up the trip; and what it's like when the conversation is miserable and I'd much rather just be listening to music on my own. More often than not, music is far better, in my opinion, than tv. That's even with some of the music that I complain about or deride on a regular basis.


Well, it's still back to work. I found a job that sounded decent at Nike and applied for it, and I'll be calling Indiana tomorrow to check in with them. I'll certainly be aiming for more activity in this vein; I have to get into a rhythm with it and work those particular mental muscles for a while. I will be happy when it is all over and I can find more times to truly let my mind rest, to wake slowly, and to really be able to work on some of these dreams. Until then, courage!

----

Chocolate Cake + Spinach Crepes + Pulled Pork = -itis squared

Actual Action Shots of Oliver vs. The Big Black Rubber Band

The big birthday weekend feast went very well. There is, in fact, no more leftovers as of this evening--that's 6-1/3 pounds of smoked pork shoulder, two full 9" x 13" Corningware pans of spinach crepes, one bunch of asparagus, a heaping of cole slaw, two pounds of curried shrimp, a whole jelly roll pan of artichoke parmesan rounds, and a chocolate cake. There are leftovers of things brought over--cupcakes, wine, beer, and aerosol cheese spread (bacon-flavored)--as well as the edible gift that is six pints of assorted Whitey's (thanks to my maniac roommate and some dry ice), so there are plenty of goodies still in existence and residence inside my fridge.

The weather definitely cooperated, allowing for one of those pinnacle moments where dinner is served and the whole group of us sat, relaxed, and visited on the front porch as the sun lowered itself into a state of perfect slanted orange light and early petals drifted down from the trees as a light breeze drifted past. As Charlie would say during dinners on the porch, where we watched the boats on the Mississippi drift by, "It doesn't get any better than this." I always agreed. I live for such moments, I have to admit; there's little more regularly satisfying than a meal with others, especially outdoors in good weather.

As for being 27, I'm rather glad to be so. If every year continues to bring growth, than I look forward to more birthdays to help mark the progress, like the creeping inches of a child's increasing height on a doorjamb.

Speaking of progress, I need to make some on my homework. I'm glad that school is almost over. Again. In fact, it can't come soon enough, nor can what follows it, whatever that may be.

--make your move--

Another Dispatch from the Land of Not Yet.

Action Shot! Go Go Gadget BillPay!

The picture is from last Friday, I think. The light was nice at the time, and, indeed, I was paying bills. What better time to be in a picture then while doing the once-a-month prestidigitation of The Disappearing Paycheck?

No real highs or lows this week. I've been in the steady drone of Nowhereland as of late, with apathy and the blues of a recovering relationship ender mingling with a bit of nostalgia and some large questions. I have found myself trying to see some old ghosts on the popular networking sites of today, and I have been finding them. My thought on it is is that it is currently a sort of coping mechanism as I continue to move into what is next, with the equation being that What Was helps Not Yet to pass by until I get to What's Next. A familiar cycle to nearly everyone, I would imagine, although I am not a fan of it. I would like to live in the moment, but much of the moment is spent in a sort of frustrating idle until more tangible hand and foot holds can be used to get to the next phase of things. That is to say, I'm not entirely happy with where I am at right at this moment. My life isn't as full of the things I really enjoy as I would like it to be, nor is it as full of people that I enjoy as I would like it to be, and work is far more draining and insipid than it is fulfilling and reinforcing.

I think Ivy put it best in reframing my last few relationship-related endeavors--also indirectly capturing much of the last few years of life in general--as times where I have done quite a bit of work without an adequate return. The problem, I think, lies in that in general I do not know what sort of compensation I should be earning. Having been journeying mostly alone for a while, I don't have too many mirrors or echo chambers to help me discover what I look and sound like to those around me, or what my worth is to a community around me. I'm a Tetris piece on the descent, still waiting to see where I fit. I know what I am worth to myself, what my general shape is, and where there is potential for me to reall fit well, but that's still all in theory. I seek practice. And hobbies. And community.

I oscillate from feeling like I've lost quite a bit this past year and have things to continue to mourn--which, to a rather true and certain degree, is correct--and thinking that I'm just feeling sorry for myself and keeping myself stuck in such a state--also true. Is it fair to keep thinking that I deserve better than a lot of what I am or have been getting? Is it unrealistic to hope that something outside of me will help me improve my life? That I could use some sort of minor deus ex machina to lift a little of this load? How much is it that is up to me? These are things I have continued to ask and somewhat answer as time goes along. What I have learned is greater responsibility for my own happiness, but also a better practice is gratitude and accepting what others may give. It's hard for me to receive at times; much easier today, but still a difficult idea at times. I'm a giver, I know this, but I can't always give. At least, not yet. Giving necessitates receiving necessitates giving...

Anyhow, enough ballyhoo. It's going to work itself out, despite my best and worst efforts. It always does.

--to see--

notes from a tired sort of day

Something sort of came upon me today, a mix of rememberances of things that have mattered to me and a recognition of having been through enough to have less of my old distractions. I framed it all through the fact that I'm nearly not 26 anymore, and so what was 26 like for me? There's been quite a bit of 'great' to it, but quite a bit of 'sad' to it, as well. For as much as I've gained this past living year in movement towards better, there has been a significant amount of letting go those things that previously pulled me through. I think this is appropriate in growth, however, as there must be room made for the new (although I must admit I'm feeling like my life is a bit too spacious at times; some of the non-progress portions of my year speak to this).

I spent my thinking time today sort of framing where I've been this past year through some of the music and playlists I've listened to. The music has changed quite a bit from this time last year, and while perhaps not for the happier, certainly for the wiser. I consider revisiting a song a success when I get more out of it (and this applies to books, movies, and otherwise), and I was able to see many of the perspectives I have gained this year through revisting music. I have aged, but more importantly, I think I have continued to grow.

I could say something like 'I'm not there yet' but there is no 'there' anymore. There is only the going and the commitment to it.

That said, I'm looking forward to 'next'. 'Next' will hopefully arrive with new ways to fill in the open spaces in my life, to places where this aim of growth will both contribute to and gain fuel from. I suppose that would be my birthday candle wish (but don't tell anyone), to enter the great unknown of 'next' and find blessings both sought and unexpected.

This was originally going to be all about music, but I think my mind is too tired for writing it out. One of those things better talked about after the sound can be shared. I'll say this, though: right now there's a cat on my arm, and part of my dinner was toastered frozen homemade waffles with thawed hood strawberry sauce. Not bad for a Thursday.

--lotte--

some quick bloobity-blabbity-blah

A messy floor and a cat that misses the NFL season.

- For more pictures from the March Asia trip, from both me and my classmates, head to the MIM Asia Trip 2007 Shutterfly page and check them out

- This whole life-change thing can be surprising. One day, I'm just thinking about what is next, dreaming of some minor position of no literal substance somewhere in Portland, and the next, I'm retooling my resume a little and wrestling with Monster.com and its ilk when, WHAM, a very appealing job drops into my inbox, and the whole landscape shifts into realistic focus. I ask myself "Hey, Ben, could you do that?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure could."

"Want to?"

"Yeah, 'spose I do."

"Would you move to Indiana for it?"

"Hmm. Intuition, what do you think?"

"The light is green!"

"Ah, looks like we're just Happy Texas over here, so I probably would."

"Okay, then! Go for it!"

From a tiny little e-mail has come the first salvo, the first little warm-up event for the job searching. I'm no longer thinking about it; I'm in it. Even should this not work out, it's that moment of jumping in the pool that begins a good day in the sun.

- I'm in NFL withdrawal, and like all of the experts out there, I'm eager to forecast how the next season will go based on no new data. So, here are my early-spring-pre-draft predictions for next season:

Item! The Green Bay Packers will stink and we'll be subjected to even more discussion about how long Brett Favre will remain in Green Bay, but this will all be forgotten when the ice age comes early to Green Bay during an outdoors winter practice session, allowing Favre to remain the active QB for Green Bay for the next three thousand years.


Item! Rex Grossman will throw for three hundred yards in a game but with a completion ratio of 5 of 72, with Devin Hester returning a kick off for a recorded 102 yards, even though he did three laps around the entire field and a couple of figure eights around both teams without being touched. Of course, this will be against the New York Giants who will have been distracted by Eli Manning, who will be crying beneath an overturned Gatorade bucket.

Item! Off the field run-ins with the law will leave only two original Cincinatti Bengals on the team by the year's end--the long snapper and a special teamer--though they will replace them with recent parolees just to keep the general milieu constant.

Item! LaDanian Tomlinson will wear a mic during a home game and it will be revealed that he makes the Six Million Dollar Man sound when he leaps over the pile to make it into the end zone.

Item! Peyton Manning will suffer a very ugly injury due to the Madden Curse and, harkening back to the Madden games of the 90's, an oversized ambulance will rush onto the field and promptly run over half of the Colts and a quarter of the Texans.

Item! Ricky Williams will retire, but only so that he can be the next NFLer to go on 'Dancing with the Stars', where he will be famous for his very spaced out version of slow dancing and his affinity for very, very flashy dresses.

Item! Tom Brady will go after the next big competitive sports milestone he can: the race for the most illegitimate children, and will have Shawn Kemp in his sights before the Pro Bowl.

- Time for bed. This weekend of Thai Curry, Uwajimaya, homemade Tonkatsu and waffles, and general relaxation is now over. Please make sure you have all of your belongings with you as you deplane. No spitting. Get back to work. Have a nice day!

--case of the mondays--

unnecessary blogging

'The funniest people I know are the Jewish and Native Americans, which I guess says something about the inherently humorous nature of genocide.'
--Sherman Alexie
As heard on NPR's
Talk of the Nation, 4:11:07

I'm not sure that's exact, but it's close, and it's the best little twist of words I've heard in a while. So much so that I ran right into work from my car to record it before it escaped my memory. It was in reference to the relationship of humor and pain, coming from a caller referencing Heinlein and 'Stranger in a Strange Land', where the Stranger wasn't able to laugh until given the gift of emotional hardship. Anyhow, it cracked me up.

I had something to say today, and planned to put it here, but it has escaped me. It was to be about being in a strange rut of routine living, with perhaps something hopeful in there as to what is coming. However, now that I've forgotten the specific words I wanted to use, I have to say that I've said enough about that, at least in the waxing poetic sort of way. It's going to be very scary and hard at times, I am thinking, to be hunting for jobs in the business world, especially at a level somewhat befitting a master's graduate. As excited as I am for 'then' I must realize the 'now' that I will soon be experiencing, and it's not always the easiest. Lack of surety has not always been my friend, so practicing umooring myself to my imagination and working as in the moment as I can will be helpful.

Some days I feel compelled to write in something like this before bed, likely in an effort to sort the head out a little. It works more often than not, but some nights I just run out of steam and actual things to say. In my younger days, I would IM into the late hours, looking for conversations to help process my racing thoughts and settle my mind into a state that was ready to utilize dreams to their fullest potential. Today there's this whole blog thing, and while it sometimes serves somewhat of the same purpose, it is not the same. I can talk to a box or write in a journal all I want, but too much just leaves me to run circles around in my thoughts, and that can drive me batty. That's really the story with work these days: too much running in circles, not enough miles traveled.

Soon enough.

--stray-ee-ange--

past + present

Just a few final shots from China, to begin:


Where? Shanghai. Why? Need to find lunch.


Baosteel ore loading dock.


And again. Note the red on the ground. That's iron ore.


Insert caption contest here.


I'm a tough @#%&$'n dock worker. In a tough @#%&$'n suit and tie.


Some views aren't so pretty (this is back in Shanghai proper)


Some Buddhist statues at the temple of the Jade Buddha. I like the beards.


This is Alison. She knows she can. You know you can, too. Go you.

And that's the pro-social message end of the pictures of Asia.

Enough on what's before, let's talk about today a little. Wait, let's? As in, there's suddenly a second voice blogging here?

Ah. Royal we.

Today the weather was completely lovely. In the morning, the air was full of oxygen, dew, and floral aromas from the trees and other growing lovelies, and that little spark of spring energy leapt through my synapses. It certainly matched my mood as of late, being one of hope and calm, knowing that I'm ready and able to tackle what all is ahead of me. Even items like catch up at work and some personal relationship confusions just slide right off my thinking mind's back.


I sat in a nearby park this evening to enjoy the weather and get some class reading done, and there's really nothing like a park on a nice evening to provide some tidbits of life to see and ponder. There was a little girl with her dog there, and the dog had this interesting two-wheel apparatus that was fastened around its waist in a way that its haunches were raised some and its hind legs were sort of kept up by a sort of anklet-sling, meaning that it propelled itself forward with its front paws and the wheels on the ground, not four legs. It was sort of sad to see at first, as any disabled or vulnerable being is, but seeing it run around chasing a tennis ball as if its hindered hind legs weren't a bother at all was warming. I can't really help but get a little mushy when I see such or similar things; there's always something about overcoming imperfections and finding joys that appeals to me. Certainly the little girl was having fun, though she made sure that the other frolicking dogs didn't get away with the tennis ball.

The other thing that stood out to me was how much I was wanting to be like those that I saw going to play tennis, or practicing catch and batting at the baseball diamond, or throwing the frisbee around. That's certainly something I hope to work into regularity someday, as I've certainly enjoyed the times when there was ultimate frisbee or flag football or such to play with people around Portland. This whole school/work thing is finding its end none too soon.

Outside of that, I've been having a number of days lately where I end up feeling rather well relaxed, and there's just nothing to me like getting some good sleep when I'm already relaxed. My dreams have been expansive and rich, though not without the usual dream anxieties that pop up every so often. I did have one last night where I believe I sort of bounced--jumped repeatedly forward in a tight crouch sort of position--all the way from the Burnside bridge to NE 122nd, near my old apartment. I love that stuff. Even on some of the good days I just can't wait to sleep, especially when I know it will come easy.

--four four--

Scorecard

Let's see how I did:

1.) Zero allergic reactions.

I'm scoring this one as a half, since while I did technically have a very mild reaction, I was very successful otherwise, especially considering the context.

2.) Don't lose anything.

I lost one earplug on the plane ride over. I'm not counting it. Otherwise, full credit, as I came back with everything I intended to return with.

3.) Converse in Japanese convincingly.

Check. Even impressed a couple of classmates, and that nice older Japanese guy who talked to us in Kamakura.

4.) Food:
a. Sushi--in Japan!

The bonito will remain legendary, and I will gather the children 'round the campfire to recite my epic odes to it... or, at least, go back and have it again someday.

b. Tonkatsu/Tempura/Assorted Noodles

So, so good.

c. Duck in China (perhaps 'Peking'?)

Yes. Peking duck = wood oven roasted deliciousness.

d. "Unexpected Craziness" (reports to follow)

Well, I consider simply eating Chinese and Thai my own reckless insanity, but it worked out. However, duck brain? Counts. Score it.

5.) See the sights, and then take pictures of them

Yup.

6.) Karaoke--in Japan!

Sadly, no. And not in China, either. I'll just have to organize an outing here in the states. I just haven't crooned some Sinatra lately enough.

7.) Buy a Japanese watch--in Japan!

No. As I have learned later, the watches I was really looking for, while designed in Tokyo, are apparently not readily for sale there. Thank you, though, to the internet, as I will still be able to get them. Check out www.tokyoflash.com and take a gander at the EleeNo watches to see what I'm talking about.

8.) Find Kit Kat in a can

Check. I found Kit Kat in a can in the Kamakura train station vending machines. For all intensive purposes, it looked like some sort of drink, as all the vending machines in Tokyo have drinks in them. However, Kit Kat in a can consists of a very nice glass jar with six snack-size (two bar) Kit Kats in it. I talked with our marketing prof about this, as he's the one who first showed the pictures of these things, and we determined that this was how Nestle was getting their product into vending machines, since there are not candy vending machines there like there are here. Interesting stuff.

9.) Purchase requisite gifts & send postcards

Uh huh. Some of you already have your gifts, and the rest of you will be seeing them soon enough. I think everyone received a post card that should have.

10.) Optionals:
a. Japanese Arcade?

Check.

b. Japanese Museum of Modern Art?

Check.

c. Cut a rug in a Japanese dance club?

Nope.

d. Japanese headphones?

Check.

e. Another jade monkey?

He's seeing no evil.

Okay, so by my count, I am 13.5 out of a possible 17. Not bad, I must say.

--oxy deep--

Ta da!

Now that I've returned to stable, fast, and unabridged internet, here come the pictures!


The exterior of one of our lecture sites.


One of the first interior sights of the site.


Sight after the escalator ride; it should be noted that the escalators looked very slow, but once one would step on, they would speed up. Handy. Neat.


Where the lecture happened. The purple orchids smelled amazing.


Outside the entrance to The Garden of the Humble Administrator. I took this one mostly for the neat old ladies out front talking.


Those dogs were bugging that lady like nobody's business.

The rest of the pictures are from inside the garden, and are presented without commentary.







































--just the way--