Obsidian Noise

Another full day, the morning was too tight and I couldn’t update. I’m just at my desk now and it’s 5p, damn. I’ll be here for a while trying to get some stuff done for tomorrow.

Working in this office is nice. I have a good view from my window, and the building itself has a pretty rich history. I’m actually sitting in the same space as a favorite sociologist  when he was writing his most influential book in the 60’s. I actually had to read that book a couple years ago in a course, and that’s when I learned of the connection to my office. Back then it used to be called “The Institute of American Studies” or something like that.

It’s sun shiny outside and the sun is fading, and I’m pretty hungry. Mostly I’m caffeine deprived. I will train later, but I have to go home first because all my stuff is there. It’s OK, I can turn it into warm up.

I shaved my cheeks and they feel bare and strange. I keep running the backs of fingers against the grain. It feels so weird and makes a scraping sound that seems very inhuman.

I shaved my armpits once, when I was in my early 20s. No reason. I was just in the shower and decided to keep going after shaving my chin. It was a bad decision. Not as bad as when you shave your pubes into a mohawk and the next day you’re like What The Fuck?

But pretty bad. They itched for about two straight weeks. Awful.

We are all so very weird. I need to go get some pizza and resume things here, so I’ll catch you later. I should be able to update like a normal person tomorrow, don’t worry.

Have been running around today, one step behind, but catching up. Sorry for the late update.

I shaved my cheeks and I look like a kid. Every single person in the office had something to say about it. Hate that shit.

Going for a swim. More proper update on the flip flop.

Later.

Something exceedingly rare occurred on Saturday from about 12-6p. I’m not altogether certain what led to the decision to take it on– it could have been some urgency to welcome the real spring and summer transition;  it could have been a little bit of isolation lately. It could have been the invisible push of curiosity which manifests itself in all kinds of chaotic, joyful, terrifying and unexpectedly wondrous ways.

There’s a good chance it was that last part.

I wasn’t even particularly anxious about it during the week, though I probably should have been, even after all of the invitations were sent out. I just sort of let it happen– a mass email to about 30 friends, two main groups, the lion dancers and some others. I didn’t invite my usual friends, actually, which just sort of happened. There were some Indians, some Greeks, a couple whiteys, and maybe 3/4 Asian, some kids. Unexpectedly, the RSVPs starting flooding in, and…

It Was On.

Friday after work I began preparing, and by the time The Thing kicked off, I somehow had everything in place.

The Thing?

BBQ.

The place?

My place.

Why?

Because I’m a crazy person?

Probably.

Friday after work I went straight to my favorite supermarket and bought 4 racks of ribs, 10 lbs of wings, 5 lbs of 80/20 burgers (80% beef, 20% pork). I looked online for directions for making marinades and bought all the ingredients for a massive, awesome batch. Some spicy, some tangy, some sweet. I bought 3 large rolls of heavy duty tin foil for making mushroom medleys. I bought 10 6-packs of specialty beers, 5 bottles of wine. I bought potatoes and 3 large, whole fish, heads on. And for $7.99 I had it delivered home later on Friday night and I was freakin’ waiting and ready to go nuts.

I have a decent patio in the back of my building. Out there, there’s a nice stone wall separating our space from the building on the opposite side and I have a grill out there that’s mine, and another that belongs to the building. Given the amount of people and food expected, I decided to buy 3 more grills. At $10/piece you can’t go wrong, and I bet you can’t find them for that price anywhere else in the city.

But we’ll save the set up part for a moment. Friday night, after unpacking the boxes of supplies, was more or less like this:

Of course there were things besides meats to prepare as well, barely. 

I followed the instructions pretty well, listening to some podcasts and having a beer, my first in about two months. At some point, probably around 11p, I switched to coffee. Everything was ready to store overnight by about 1:30a. I put everything in nice foil containers and covered them, and altogether it made my fridge look like a professional cooling unit. Stacks and stacks of uniform foil boxes, each full of stuff, ready to be unplugged and deposited on grills the next day. Organized like a motherfucker.

Nervous about time the next morning, I decided to get all the grills sorted out in the wee hours– they needed to be assembled– that’s what you get for $10. It’s virtually DIY.  By 2:30a, I was ready to crash in preparation for the big morning ahead.

There’s something intense about doing something like this completely alone. You have to try thinking of all possible things that could go wrong, and you end up inventing a process for yourself that can’t be critiqued by anyone, so you need to review your strategy repeatedly. Strangely, it wasn’t stressful. With some coffee on hand and plenty of hours ahead, I actually sort of enjoyed getting everything ready. I had complete control over the whole shebang, and it was intense and comfortable being in the zone of flow.

I started early the next morning. The patio was bare because all the furniture was still inside for winter storage, so I had to move the usual tables and patio furniture out first. It was a good workout and after a couple runs, despite it being in the 40s, I was sweating and removing layers and my arms were burning.

After getting everything out there, I realized for the first time that it all looked very bare. I had no plans for color or table clothes or anything like that, and it was clearly a mistake. I made a note to myself to hit the dollar store when it opened, probably around 10a. In the meantime I moved all the grills out and got a sense of how things could optimally be arranged.

I made it to the dollar store and chose some pink table cloths. Don’t ask me why, it just happened that way.

After putting one on one of the tables, I realized something was still missing, everything was going to be too bare, still.  So I went straight back out to the florist and bought six bunches of flowers. Dumbly and riskily, I got some that matched the table cloths. So, here’s how things started shaping up. You can see the four grills in a line, there.

Put a few more flowers out, and I was really liking how the line of grills was coming together as a center piece of the layout. It was at this point I realized I was actually going to pull the whole thing off.

This is the last pre-party picture, and actually one of the last pictures. From this point on I had too much to do and forgot to do much documentation, save for a few snaps here and there. Yes, I am aware it looks like a wedding reception or something– I didn’t know what I was doing. So, cheesy, yes. But it was better than it could have been, and actually I think it came together pretty well.

After about 2/3 of the total RSVPers arrived, I had an idea to go up to my neighbor’s balcony and grab a picture, and that’s what you see here (below). There were about 6 more attendees who trickled in as they finished their other obligations that fateful Saturday, and we absolutely maxed out around 4p.

At around 6p, everything was gone. I mean *everything*. Somehow all of the beers, all of the food, all of the snacks… everything.

Which was perfect.

I mean, perfect. People were buzzed, a few visibly drunken and happy. People were rubbing their bellies, and stuffed. By 7p talk began about where to move the party to, and who was going where that night.

By 8p there were only 10 people left and they all came up to my place for some tunes and hit the Jack Daniels I usually provide on jam nights.

By 9p the people who stayed were ready for a nap– that’s 8 straight hours of eating and drinking.

By 10p it was just me and couple of the girls and we had an incredible threesome.

NOPE.

(Like that would ever happen.)

It was me and couple of the girls, and I walked them down to Broadway to catch a cab home as they were both pretty sloshed.

By 11p I was ready to crash.

By 12a I took my smokey clothes off and threw them in a heap on the floor, and, relishing the quiet, I drank some water, rinsed quickly off, and slid into bed. I was asleep in seconds, belly full, brain full, yet somehow also empty of all things.

I spent Sunday cleaning everything up alone, and it was nice. I replayed some of the conversations and jokes and events of the BBQ as I washed dishes, did the recycling, and packed the grills for storage. My living room smelled like beautiful, sweet campfire from my clothes on the floor, and I decided to hold off on washing them for one more day.

I wish my place could smell like that all the time.

And by Sunday night it was all history. Back to normal. And here I am at the office, Monday morning, looking out my window…

…wearing jeans that smell like smoke, and it’s good.

Have a great week.

PS. I won the fight on Friday afternoon in the second round by TKO due to strikes. It wasn’t even close.

Cold, wet morning and I like it. Coffee extra hot and the sound coming from my office window is is everything you’d expect on a severely rainy morning in NYC. The hiss of car engines mixed with the occasional whirl of an ambulance siren or fire engine horn, the intermittent bassy grumble of a big rig down-shifting before a red light. Windows closed because it’s cold, and my desk lamp’s light is slightly yellow against the perfect white of an evenly clouded sky.

Ten minutes have just passed because a coworker came to ask about a meeting we have later today. I can’t wait for this one. A group of complexity theorists are coming to talk about doing a project with us on decision making and dealing with ambiguity. The interesting part is that they want to use our preexisting simulations and build an add-on that tracks decision making behavior over time. The output would be a profile for each participant that describes back to them how well they handled ambiguity, and strategies they can use to become better at it. I really like the idea because it might breathe some life back into our older simulations, and also give us some good things to write about.

I have a good soreness burning from last night’s training, but not enough to impede tonight’s fight. I can’t wait for this. After two weeks of being under the weather, I’m going to have a blast on the mats. I hope he’s ready to have a good time, because I feel pretty invincible and aggressive lately. I will let you know how it goes, of course. Though, like me, you probably already know.

Have a great weekend.

I was asked to celebrate someone’s 30th birthday last night and I was happy to go. She’s an intense and popular person and her actual party was 80 people strong,  something I wasn’t up for. So when she asked if I would have a dinner with just her, I was glad to oblige. I was still a little sick, but needed to get out anyway.

We went to French place in Brooklyn called Chez Moi. Nice atmosphere, the usual $20/dish and at least 2 dishes/person. I ordered the tuna tartare so I could compare it to what I had at David Burke Kitchen.

It was extremely flavorful. There was a bit a honey drizzled along the edges of the plate (as you can see above) at the just the right amount, and overall I think it had more flavor than the tuna tartare taco at Burke’s.

The picture I took of my main course came out too dark, but it was quite a sight. I had the seared duck breast with cherry reduction sauce and gratin potatoes. Fantastic.

I found the wallpaper in the bathroom pretty interesting, triggering something in me, though it took me a few minutes to place the memory.

It reminded me of a painting my ex-girlfriend made for someone. It reminded me that once, she made a painting for me. It was a tiger face emerging from a bridge that was based on aspects of an actual bridge we used to walk past every morning. One day, about a year after it had been on my wall, and after exhibiting it somewhere, she decided to give it to someone else. That really sucked. That was one of the things I never even mentioned to her because I didn’t even know how to.

The thunderstorms last night were fast and pure. I arrived in Brooklyn early and while walking to the restaurant from the Burough Hall station, the sky opened up. Lightning strikes broke it all into shards of darkness and the thundering was immediate and satisfying. I stood out there under an umbrella in the middle of the huge, stoned walkway across from Burough. The sound of rain, drumming above and smacking around me, temporarily drowned all thoughts away.

My feet became too wet to ignore, and that almost never happens. I decided to wear “shoes” because I wasn’t sure if the restaurant had a dress code. The Limmers would have loved to be out there at that time.

My cold virus has lost the battle and I’m well today. I will train like a motherfucker in about 60 minutes. Tonight I will sleep early and long to make sure I’m 100% tomorrow for fighting at my MMA gym. They moved me up into the light heavyweight group because I’m now at 204lbs. I think it’s a pretty good fit, though the athletes in this weight class are huge. Two of them are transitioning from football to MMA, so that’s great. One was at the team trials for Greco Roman Wrestling and he said he missed selection by a point or something. So that’s nice.

I better do some work.

Be true. See you tomorrow.

In shorts and a light shirt today, and still started sweating on my walk into the new office. Seems like only last week it was cold. I like this! The day-to-day, I mean. That’s probably why I belong in San Francisco-type places. Shorts and a perfect hoody, please.

As you probably guessed by the late update today, I’m behind. I won’t go into it all, just lots of stuff. Writing. Seems never ending.

But this is what it is. The more you do, the more you get, and ever notice how the more you get, the more you want? When does the desire end… is it when you get that thing? That perfect thing that will be all you need and then you can just be content about everything else in your life?

You have recognize that desire and understand it to be something that over time will fuck your shit up because ultimately you might never be content about anything.

You can want things, of course. And you can get things, definitely. But beware. You know the cycle. Eventually you’ll realize you lived a life of chasing stuff and never feeling tranquil about anything.

But yeah, I know. I like waking up pissed off and hard. What if my tranquility is your permanent agitation… 

BTW, viruses are not animals or plants and are not technically fully alive. But the interesting thing is that they contain DNA and proteins and do exhibit signs of life in certain environments– like replication. But really they are more like inanimate molecules. They quite literally exist at the line between life and non-life.

And right now that line goes right through my sinuses.

Friday my cold turned into something much worse. I had body aches all day and my voice sounded like Sam Elliott’s. By the end of the day I was ready to get flat. I wonder if my Hudson swim had anything to do with it. Also, my lower back was pulsing with soreness, hopefully from the virus only.

But I wasn’t able to rest that night. No, not me, and for good reason. The legendary Exhumed was opening for the equally legendary Suffocation at Saint Vitus, and I had two tickets, the other one for a guitar builder I know. No way was I going to miss seeing Suffocation tear shit up, and especially not in a tiny venue like Saint Vitus. Long before the show I already knew it was going to be awesome.

Despite feeling pretty light-headed and feverish at times, it was absolutely worth it to check these bands out.

Exhumed wrecked it up there and brought all they had. In the middle of their set, my buddy and I started smelling gasoline. Since Vitus is sort of dingy, I figured it was exhaust from a garage nearby or something. But, from directly behind us in that back corner where the nasty seats are, a mask-wearing freak pulled out a chainsaw, pulled the cord a few times and let it rip. I had a few seconds to decide whether to disarm and probably kill him, or assume it was part of the show. It was a pretty sick spectacle because it was a real engine, screaming and spewing exhaust. While Exhumed was completely destroying their set with some of the lowest, growliest, filthiest distortion possible, the dude with the chainsaw started fighting his way through the crowd to the stage, holding the fucking chainsaw over his head, revving the engine. Coupled with the super brutal sound, and epic songs like “Torso”, it was awesome. He made his way on the stage and blasted the engine into the mic and it made a deafening, sick sound. The sight, the smell, the sound… awesome.

Suffocation did their usual thing, and it was great. Mullen was his crazy self, bouncing around the stage, hitting himself in the head and air chopping just like he’s done for nearly 20 years now. He’s got to be in his 40s now, still ripping it up. It was a little strange to see such a big name death metal band play such a tiny venue, and it was a sold out show, of course. We also learned that Mullen will basically only be singing in NY-area shows from now on because he has a full time job somewhere in long island– a good reminder that people who are into this art have it tough. Even if you’re one of the biggest death metal acts of all time, you still have a hard time making ends meet. Those who pursue it deserve our respect for making it happen. They’re basically volunteering their art for free, usually against their own best interests, and that’s awesome (and awesomely difficult to keep going).

For me it’s perfect. I genuinely just love the way extreme metal sounds.

Off to the races on another crazy day. My cold is gone and I’m ready to rip it. It’s 70s out and my two homes are the same today. One has ocean, one has energy. Since I’m in the energy one, let’s do it.

I woke up sounding like Sam Eliot this morning.

Bug going around the office. Two people out today, and this week we had a large group at home. Usually I avoid this kind of epidemic somehow, but I guess this time it got to me. I like the challenge of trying to kick it fast. Everyone is saying it’ll take me at least a week to get over this, and as today is Day 1, next week might be a miss. We’ll see. It’d be nice to come in all perfect-like on Monday morning.

It’s fun to speak in this voice.

I have an aching lower back. If I hadn’t broken my back 1.5 years ago, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But any reminder of that period of time, the worst 6 months of my life, is instant trauma. I have ice on it now.

What happens is that certain viruses cause inflammation. Inflammation is the enemy of most of your body, and particularly around nerve clusters, such as the spine. The pain of inflamed tissue rubbing against nerve roots can be severe, and what happens is that the central nervous system will automatically send “freeze and hold” signals to the effected area to protect against damage. In the lower back, this results in spasms– periods of time where the muscles tense up like little fists to prevent certain kinds of motion. When your lower back is spasming, it’s painful. The muscles themselves begin to cramp and remain tense and stay aching, just as if you tightened your bicep and just kept it flexed for a long period of time. It’s a strange kind of pain that passes between numbing pain and aching.

You can take drugs to get the muscle to release, but I don’t need that. This is all from a virus, it’s mild. The ice is working fine. I’m walking and bending fine, I just feel an ache right where the break occurred. So, though it makes me a little nervous, I’m not freaking out. I bet it’ll be fine in a couple days once I kick the virus. No training for a couple days.

Have you ever stripped away the shell and tools of your body and considered what “you” actually are? For instance, are you your hair? Or your feet? Does your physical “body” define you? Most people would say no. For instance, if you lose your arm, do you lose your “self”? No.

But that’s not true for all parts of our body. Our brain literally is us. When that thing changes, we chance. There is no difference. So, what are we? We are this:

This is literally what the “we” in “we are” is.

Everything around this thing evolved to help it get around, to acquire energy, to reproduce itself, to stay alive. Our bodies are tools for this thing, and the better the tool, the longer this thing will survive, the further its genes will be passed along.

But really it’s just this. Everything else is decoration and tool.

Is that neat, or is it a certain kind of terror?

There’s nothing worse than watching someone make the same mistakes. This morning it was in a presentation given by a colleague. The guy has good ideas, many I agree with. When he presents them to our group, though, he tends to begin with the conclusion, and the discussion goes way off from where it should be. He encountered some strong realtime rebuttals from senior management, from other staff, even from newer staff. It’s entirely his fault. He made the hour extremely hard for himself. It’s because he didn’t learn from the last time this happened.

That’s your only key. Learn constantly, and iterate on your self, your projects. Don’t feel proud about “doing it your way.” Feel proud about constantly improving “your way.”

Thor.

That is all.