Meditation2

I'm too young to die!

So, I wake up this morning feeling like shit (after having suffered a migraine yesterday afternoon) so I do a little research on Wikipedia to find that 1 in 20 people in the United States die from pneumonia. Fantastic.

And I would never its beauty

Sex is dirt beneath and clouds above; it's shivering and shared heat; it's vulnerability and safety. To cap its joy or assuage its fear is to deny its beauty." --Ethan Imboden, founder of Jimmyjane

Been there, ate that. What's the second course?

This was IMed to me and pretty much got no "ewwwws" from me because I've seen those suckers on my dinner table in Korea a few years ago. I also ate a small wiggling piece (which was sprinkled with toasted sesame seed oil, salt, pepper, and scallions). It was tasty but the gross out factor scores a perfect 10 on a 1 to 10 scale. Like Anthony Bourdain, there was a point in my life where I would eat most anything. From a very young age my parents applauded my ability to not shy anyway from anything they served me (from strange vegetables to acorn jelly to all kinds of kimchi and organ meat) and it's really stuck with me. Even though I don't eat land roving creatures anymore, I'll still try pretty much anything.

*In case you're an ill-informed American, please know that Koreans don't eat like this all time. There actually aren't that many restaurants that serve food like this.

Never find yourself on Valleywag again

I swear, I'm gonna go to some party and some douchebag is actually going to be wearing these. I give the inventors some credit though--it is pretty funny.

I'm out sick and look what happens

Our interns get locked out of the office with no bathroom key for 2.5 hours (they rounded up in the video).

I can't decide if my friends are nice or mean

"Friend": but anyway, you need to go get a big tub of ice cream from albertsons, youre not going to feel hungry. you need to force yourself to eat.

Me: i'll try to eat.

"Friend": no try! do eat, or ill come tomorrow and stuff you full of food.

Also, being sick and single is probably one of the worst things ever. You can't exactly ask your buddies to cuddle with you to make you feel better. :sigh:

Magic Bean

I have pneumonia. I've been sick for more than three weeks now. First, I had an on again, off again cold and then when I thought I was all better I was too busy working and going out to take care of myself and bacteria moved down my lungs.

Contrary to popular belief...

Whiskey does not make me violent. It makes me pink cheeked and very friendly. :)

I went to Whiskies of the World Expo on Saturday and it was pretty cool (but everyone was saying that the year previous was much better). I got to try a ton of whiskey, all different and mostly pretty good. I knew I wasn't a huge fan of peat but after trying one whiskey called The Peat Monster I am 100% sure I like them with less peat. I also got to try some fantastic Japanese single malt whiskey from Suntory called Yamazaki. Tasty!!!

Fucking sunshine and daises

Who loves the sun
Who cares that it makes plants grow
Who cares what it does
Since you broke my heart

Who loves the wind
Who cares that it makes breezes
Who cares what it does
Since you broke my heart

Pa pa pa pa
Who loves the sun
Pa pa pa pa
Who loves the sun
Pa pa pa pa
Not everyone
Pa pa pa pa
Who loves the sun

Who loves the rain
Who cares that it makes flowers
Who cares that it makes showers
Since you broke my heart

Who loves the sun
Who cares that it is shining
Who cares what it does
Since you broke my heart

Who loves the sun

My excuse

"There is some sadness in it-- there has to be, so that the happiness in it will matter." --Elliot Smith

"Who so loves, believes the impossible"

The simple equations of love. Like this: relationships live on time. They devour it in the way that bees feed on pollen or aerobic cells on oxygen: with an unbending singularity of purpose and no possibility of compromise or substitution. Relatedness is a physiologic process that, like digestion or bone growth, admits no plausible acceleration. And so the skill of becoming and remaining attuned to another's emotional rhythm requires a solid investment of years.

Americans have grown used to the efficiencies of modern life: microwave ovens, laser price scanners, number-crunching computers, high-speed Internet access. Why should relationships be any different? Shouldn't we be able to compress them into less time than they took in the old days, ten or a hundred or a thousand years ago? The unequivocal limbic no takes our culture by surprise. The modern American is genuinely puzzled when affiliations evaporate from inattention. Every new second of togetherness reestablishes the terms of a relationship. But cultural mythology imbues social ties with the clumsy durability of things-- once attained, always attainable; once established, easy to get back to weeks, months, years later. The truth is only slightly less dire than the words of the playwright Jean Giraudoux: "If two people who love each other let a single instant wedge itself between them, it grows-- is becomes a month, a year, a century; it becomes too late."

Some couples cannot love because the two simply don't spend enough time in each other's presence to allow it. Advances in communication technology foster a false fantasy of togetherness by transmitting the impression of contact--phone calls, faxes, e-mail--without its substance. And when a relationship is ailing from frank time deprivation, both parties often aver that nothing can be done. Every activity they spend time on (besides each other) has been classified as indispensable: cleaning the house, catching the news, balancing the checkbook.

Such an existence is too expensive to beat. When launching a life raft, the prudent survivalist will not toss food overboard while retaining the deck furniture. If somebody must jettison a part of life, time with a mate should be last on the list: he needs that connection to live.

Couples do not receive this advice from friends, colleagues, family--their world. Instead they are encourages to achieve, not attach. American spur one another to accomplish and acquire before anything else--our national dream holds that industry leads to a promised land, and nobody wants to miss out on a share of paradise. When consummating a career does not bring happiness--as it cannot--few pause to reconsider their assumptions; most redouble their efforts. The faster they spin the occupational centrifuge, the most its high-velocity whine drowns out the wiser whisper of their own hearts.

...

Loving is limbically distinct from in love. Loving is mutuality; loving is synchronous attunement and modulation. As such, adult love depends critically upon knowing the other. In love demands only the brief acquaintance necessary to establish an emotional genre but does not demand that the book of the beloved's soul be perused from preface to epilogue. Loving derives from intimacy, the prolonged and detailed surveillance of a foreign soul.

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"Best of Yelp"

That bacon wrapped hot dog cart in the Mission? Seriously, WTF?

"I say no, but they keep givin, So I keep on takin"

Um, as an angst ridden teenager I was way into Alanis Morisette. Perhaps I should revisit her music.

Check out her cover of "My Humps"-- universally known as the stupidest song ever to reach the top of the charts. Suddenly, this cover refreshes it. Bert, wanna cover this one?

Happy Birthday, Rachel

My subtle push

My eyes would dilate when I was sinking into those depths you call you eyes but with all bright lights I couldn't see. Imagination showed me, down the road, strong and alone. Growing wise and ready to make something last...

I learned that dancing well is about keeping just the right amount of tension between your contact points with your partner. When he pushes on me, I push back. When he steps away, I step towards him-- keeping that gentle tension constant. Too much pressure and I'll knock into him, too little and he'll slip away.