The last work week was unlike any I've seen in a long while. Stressful, but full of opportunity and the kind of strokes you're lucky to experience in any career.

We ended the week with an evening of Symphony Friday night, hearing 3 pieces: Grieg's Funeral March in Memory of Richard Nordraak (1866), the very first performance of Thow's Bellini Sky, commissioned for the SF Symphony lead by Julie Ann Giacobassi playing the English Horn, and Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 6 in B Minor, Pathétique. I've always loved Tchaikovsky, but I have a new favorite instrument in Giacobassi's English Horn...Breathtaking. Bellini Sky was all about images of Springtime and birth, sunrises and sunsets. It was the kind of music to make you believe music has color...

It would seem my credit union has a new security measure in place for safe access to your personal information on their website. After inputing your UserID, you click Login and get this:

"The picture and text below is your CUOnline secret PassMark. We will show you this before asking for your password every time you login. When you see this PassMark, you can be sure that you are at the genuine Stanford Federal Credit Union CUOnline".

Now click on the picture below to see what I saw...

My `PassMark' is a picture of tropical fruit...How appropos. My brain farts trying to wrap around how `Smart Truck' fits in with their Big Brother-esque Psychic Eye view into my personal life, but hey? braaaap. Excuse me - brain fart.

To have a dream that your bird is frolicking with a macaw in a big cage, playing with toys, preening each other, having a grand old time...on the same day you're likely to hear back from the Vet if that could ever safely happen...

Ug. Hope that can happen some day.

Of course, the latter part of the dream, that which bubbled from the primordial soup comprising the reptilian portion of my brain, produced a short storyline of Kelly laying a perfect white egg. Which before my eyes slowly turned into a small white poodle. Replete with little blue bow. Curse you Mother.

Since I've stopped counting points, and have been focusing more on high nutrition foods in healthy portions, I find myself still cautious about my food selections. Good habits built from point-counting days go a long way it seems. Exercise is taking a higher billing on the marquee; I'm proud of it. Food is still a little spooky to me, but at least I'm getting back into considering it without my proverbial thumb in my mouth.

Kelly is going to a new vet today. I found myself in the shower going over the answers to some predictable questions. Who was her last vet? When did she last see a vet? I expect my answers to produce predictable nods, and perhaps raise eyebrows. "She last had a physical >3 years ago. When she was young, I took her to the vet every year and each one (I kept moving you see) said the same thing: `You really don't have to bring her in every year. It's not necessary. Birds will tell you when they're feeling poorly by their behavior.'" The sad thing is that I took that advice, but also knew that by the time a bird shows those kinds of signs, the problem has progressed dangerously. So. Here I am, after doing the research and discovering Dr. Chris Sanders in Portola Valley specializes in birda and reptiles and is all-hailed by the local avian community. He's also 15 minutes from home. Good thing. Will report later on eye/ear/nose/throat/cloaca/liver/blood tests.

A nice weekend includes:
--waking up Saturday full of beans and being a goof for no reason
--a bird playing your sidekick
--good news from a real estate financial advisor
--a sister showing up for the weekend
--a flank-steak sandwich with balsalmic-onion sauce and provolone
--drinking 2 bottles of wine on the floor with your mom and sister
--your sexy hubby showing up soon after
--a dance recital starring one of your oldest friends
--a kick ass caesar, scallops wrapped in prosciutto, crostini, and riggatoni with eggplant, fennel, and portobello shrooms
--a 2002 Coppola Claret, and a 2002 Coppola Rosé
--granola and a blueberry smoothie for breakfast
--a quick trip to the gym
--good feelings while organizing
--getting loopy bundled up in the cold darkness staring at a near full moon and seeing shooting stars
--lime daquiris
--hot dogs!

now that's one I'll remember :)

Sometimes it's the little things that lift weight from your shoulders, when you realize they're finally gone. I have a running task list at work, one for each calendar year, and January is always a little stressful because I have one running for the new year as well as the old, which still holds a few items waiting for completion.

I got to cross off the last item from my 2004 list this morning. Big sigh of relief - it's nice to finish up the old, and start with the new. Even if it is work.

from DailyOM
Honoring Your Body

Our physical body is an amazing, beautiful machine with the ability to perform incredible feats, heal itself, and serve us well into our later years. When we honor our body, we honor that which created us. We honor the divine. Therefore, it's important to appreciate, nurture, and respect our bodies.

Honor your body by thanking it for it all its does for you. No matter what shape your body is in, it has served you well for many years. Even if you'd rather be thinner, more muscular, or even taller, be grateful for the body you have. Everyday, give yourself a pat on the back that you can walk, talk, laugh, dance, sing, all the things that you might take for granted.

Give your body the best in terms of food, exercise, and care. Choosing to eat wholesome, healthy foods, even if they cost a little more because they're organic, is a good investment for long-term health. If supplements are helpful, include them in your diet. Your body needs the proper fuel to function well and deserves the best nutrients that you can afford.

Exercise daily. Your body wants and needs to move. Just thirty minutes a day of walking can be beneficial. Likewise, if you exercise regularly, be sure not to overdo it so that you don't stress joints and ligaments. Allow any injuries to fully heal and give your body the rest it needs by getting enough sleep.

Treat your body with relaxing baths, facials, massages, and proper medical care. Practice good hygiene and see a doctor and dentist regularly. Meditate to allow your body to de-stress and rejuvenate. A healthy body includes a sharp mind; so continue to challenge your mind with new experiences.

Your body will tell you what it needs if you just listen. At times, your mind and emotions may be confused, but your body doesn't lie. Pay attention to what feels good and bad and how your body reacts to certain situations and people. Generally when your body feels light, things are right. When you feel tense and uneasy, there's a reason.

"A nickel will get you on the subway, but garlic will get you a seat." -New York Yiddish Proverb

When I get inebriated, while I'm hungry, I lose focus on my goals. I just care less about them and it's easier to fall off the wagon.

I have a habit of eating late at night after drinking enough to get tipsy, or approaching inebriated. I should start making/eating dinner earlier in the evening, and spend my evening digesting while doing other things.

Sitting here in clean (relatively) house, the weather outside dubious, but still beautiful. (aside: I'm thrilled about the weather these days. Storms, bright clean sunshine, storms, repeat.) Out of bed this morning around 11:45 am. No hangover. Just tired, but very very happy with what caused it.

Mom arrived around 4:30, without wine, which was a surprise. But it was a good thing, cause it led to the opening of a Pinot Noir I've been waiting to taste.

Into the intense rain for a 6:00 reservation. A tall, dark waiter just on this side of smarmy with his jazzy baritone and penchant for saying "fabulous choice". Slightly rushed to catch the show in SF, we plowed through the restaurant's 5 courses nye menu. An appetizer plate each of grapes, smoked salmon, and a porcini mini-quiche of some sort, then a spicy tiger shrimp soup, a black squid ink pasta dish, lobster ravioli, beef tenderloin, steamed spinach, veal scallopini, salmon, and crunchy little bite-sized potatoes. A Rutherford Sauvignon, peroni beer for Duane, and a Sidecar I snuck in there somewhere. Dessert was an orange creme-anglaise, tiramisu (actually the best I've had), and a vanilla bean ice cream with espresso-grappo poured over the top (hic.) And champagne to boot. Bread and fun conversation to soak up the excess and off to SF...

Avoiding the dunken thrall on the roads with a Bart ride into SF. A short, but brisk, walk into the very bowels of the New Conservatory Theater. A raucous, bawdy, outrageous performance of the Kinsey Sicks at 10:00. Fifteen minutes before midnight, they stopped their show and ad-libbed for the next 45 minutes. Passed out noise-makers and jaunted with the audience. Sang with us at midnight. Pure fun. Mom and I were the loudest laughers in the audience. No surprise there 8) Crawled home by 1:30 am. Long sleep.

It's been a long time since I had a nye night of that much fun. Wouldn't trade it.

I find myself at the end of this year yet not rushing to get a multitude of things done, as I expected I would. I have only a handful of things I want to do, and then I can peacefully let 2004 go...

finish my uberlist for 2005
finish preparing 2005 finances
finish updating my point(y) calculator and have it ready for bear

Then it's off to Il Fornaio with Duane and Mom, and then to the Kinsey Sicks at the New Conservatory Theater in San Francisco. Happy New Years!

Kelly raids the bar. Makes a daddy proud.

We've been plotting for a while what to do with our vacation time and my bonus money - and have done absolutely nothing on that list. We've spent a great deal of it though. wtf, right?

ch-ching: and halgoen spot lights installed in the kitchen
ch-ching: and a new birch bookcase up in the bedroom (damn that Ikea)
ch-ching: and a new kitchen workstation appears

And what an amazing day today - rainy morning, beautiful bright clear weather, then moody rain again. The weather is schizophrenic, I love it.

My least favorite aspect of new years is listening to people make `n break resolutions. That and the drunken hordes suffering from mass Stupid.

I've never understood, outside of the numbers included in the date, what makes "next year" different from "this year". Why does a new calendar year give people the sense that it's the best time to start fresh with something? To finally make positive changes in their every day world? What's wrong with today? Yesterday? What's my point? Fuck. You tell me.

I guess what I'm feeling is a general frustration that my mental to-do list is so long, and the reasons seem small and stupid in hindsight. Excuses, procrastinations, fears, and other such dither. Now that we're at that penultimate time of "new birth" and "fresh starts", I'm annoyed because I feel like I should make resolutions, but I hate that. My life, a practice in hypocracy.

I guess instead of making a list of things I will torture myself with, then ultimately fail to accomplish, I'll just make one statement that covers it all in one fell swoop: "If it really matters to you, do it. If it doesn't, forget it now and forever don't worry about it."

Bad grammar notwithstanding in that statement, it's mine, and it covers my issues. For I am the Grand Waffler. I have high aspirations, lofty goals, but little drive. Why? Because I get confused determining the difference between what I want and what I need. It all gets put on that list, and generally the Wants get taken care of before the Needs. And in the end, I torture myself thinking that I've failed in taking care of myself. I feel devalued, and a cycle of self-deprecation ensues.

So how to I weed down my mental to-do list? Actually feel like I'm getting something done, taking care of myself? My theory: Think it through before putting it on there. "Why does it matter? What's to be gained by accomplishing it? What happens if I don't?" If it's a Need, and I accomplish it, I feel better about myself, my mood score rises. If it's a Want, I feel a quick high, and all the Needs on my list get one notch older, and in the long run, I feel like I'm not taking care of myself. Enter viscious cycle.

I'm writing an uberlist for 2005 - it will contain my Needs. I will put a few Wants on there because you can't live without them, but you can accidentally inundate yourself with them, so they'll be sparse. And criminy, I may actually find that some Wants and Needs are the same thing...

It's not exactly a resolutions list, and it's a work in progress, but getting it out of my head and in print will make me think about each item's importance. If you should be watching the list in future, don't be surprised to see things come and go. Life is, after all, all about change.

I've shuttled Mom off to the airport for her "guilt-assuaging" trip to Texas to see her own mother. The sun came up after I got home. I slept terribly, jerking awake every 45 minutes convinced I'd overslept and wouldn't get her there on time. Is guilt and worry genetic?

It's still early, the storm is reducing some. I'm remembering only a few maniacs on the road, but wonder if the person driving the car 70 mph up 92, while it's on fire, is ok. Thick rain, fog, then blinding smoke on the freeway for about 1/2 a mile behind him. I slowly trailed along, squinting like Mr. Magoo, convinced his utter auto-maintenance failures would result in *my* viking-style death in a burning twisted metal heap. Ah, the glory of the early morn.

A quiet Solstice Tree Eve.
A toast cuddled under a feather comforter on the couch.
Early to Bed.

A pre-dawn drive to Sacratomato.
Hopping children, tired adults to greet us.
Present shredding, blissful coffee cake, pistachio brittle.
Loot!
Cloverleaf rolls made from scratch, dough up to your elbows.
Mapled Ham, mashed sweet potatoes, au gratin potatoes, chilé green beans, black-eyed peas, fresh from the oven rolls as big as your head, goat cheese cheesecake, South African sauvignon blanc dubbed "Giraffe Pee" - but no, it was really good, just a fun label.

Full, warm happiness. So much fun. Blessed be.

I was very happy pulling on my new Fruit Fucker 2000 T-shirt Saturday morning. Enjoyed wearing it all over SF that day, showing it to the Borogoves that afternoon. But upon returning home, Kelly had one look at it and did the "poof-snarl-lunge" routine. Those who've seen it know what this means. For those that don't, ask me. I'm not sure I can describe it in print. It is a hearty objection from the avian world. A defense strategy of making yourself look as large and intimidating as possible, yet reeking of simultaneous fear. It was absolutely terrifying the first time I saw it over a decade ago, but now it's something to be enjoyed (and fostered when I'm feeling particularly evil.)

An early rise on Saturday to play the duckling behind a whirling dervish meriko as she scanned the SF Ferry Building's farmer's market for ingredients and supplies for her tree trimming party. Back to the borogove abode to help prep for the evening do. We, the 3 great white hunters, frolicked in the Xmas trees to pick meriko's favorite. Ah, meriko's sugar burn. She'd been up at 5 baking cookies and drinking coffee, so the tree lot was her playground. (She's a biter, folks. FYI.) Then back to the abode to hoist, get sappy, and decorate. Then home to get some chores done. The evening was a hoot. Thank you, borgoves two!

I spent the bulk of Sunday in my kitchen, banging my head on the rafters, the counter, and the heel of my hand as I changed my mind numerous times about where to keep things. Hey, it was exercise. Up Down Up Down Up Down.

I've reorganized my kitchen after discovering the secret hideyholes. We have one of those hideous ceiling-wide fluorescent light fixtures that render our kitchen a surgey center when powered up. Above which is about 1.5 feet of space where the fluorescent lights are hidden, but the space extends over the cabinets - voila! Shelves about 1 ft deep and 8 feet long on either side of the kitchen. There are twelve 2 sq ft translucent plastic tiles hiding it this hidden nirvana of space. Sliding them to the center, the (evil) fluorescent bulbs were exposed, removed, and hidden. The tops of the cabinets were cleaned and lined, and now I have a pantry for the not-so-tall. My cabinets are looking more spacious now - and perform less like Fibber McGee's closet. More cabinet space means appliances can go away, which means more counter space. It's amazing how much little changes can help. My kitchen and I have made peace.

*chuckle* The Universe.
my buddy, my friend, my cybil-esque partner in all hijinks

What would YOU do if you were a) told your partner had the same week off you did for the holidays, b) told your annual bonus was being deposited in your checking account in 1 week, and c) you were given a free, round-trip ticket to anywhere in the continental US (but had to deal with some strong flight restrictions, and use it before Dec. 31st) ??

I'm waiting for feedback.... *hopping*

The jovial comraderie co-workers can have with one another from time to time is a marvelous thing. You can be left feeling right as rain afterwards. But sometimes things roll off the tongue of those with whom that effortless bridge of communication isn't so much a bridge, or even on the drawing board, but still a rashly conceived notion jotted on a cocktail napkin stained with bar bilge water or crusty chapstick leavings.

"Wiggle this, baby" *shudder*

What we have to look forward to:

"This year, four stars shine over Bethlehem. Witness the Kinsey Sicks deploy their award-winning a cappella singing, biting wit and over-the-top drag in the global effort to stamp out holiday cheer. Now in its second year at NCTC, the show will premiere new songs and other holiday mischief not included in last year's production. Make Oy Vey one of your familiar holiday traditions, like turkey stuffing, dreidl spinning and crippling depression! Not suitable for those under 18."

What's with the psycho dreams lately that wake me up at 5 or 6 in the morning, and inevitably cause me to lie in bed staring at the dark with a "wtf" look on my face? These dreams aren't scary, but they ensure I think about em a while. Dagnabbit.

Professional kitchens in tiny, narrow trains zooming through a slowly moving parade. Safeways where the doors disappear and credit cards keep getting re-charged. Jesus.

Bush 2004
Thanks for not paying attention

I've scanned through some of my blog entries, delved into other, hard-copy journals, and have found some interesting data.

Now I didn't come upon this discovery randomly. Curious about a statement made by an astrologer I've come to read religiously, I went "searching for patterns" in my physical data journals. (Read weight loss journals, weight-training journals, and the like, which I have going back several years.) There are month-to-month trends in my progress which match the astrologer's pronouncements. Our bodies are affected by the lunar cycles. (Women everywhere may now roll their eyes and mutter appropriately.) I've always known that I have a "male-PMS" cycle that covers a 2-3 month period where pyschological, sexual, and other physcial trends are easily identifiable. I just never looked at how lunar cycles affected my body, or my attempts to alter my homeostatic state.

The astrolger, Susan Miller, pronounced that her body responded to the waxing and waning moon cycles with regards to muscle mass increases and weight loss. As the moon waxed from New Moon to Full, she found her body gained strength and muscle mass easily without losing or gaining much physical weight. The cycle between Full Moon and New Moon, where the moon wanes, she found that her body dropped pounds more readily, but her strength training didn't progress much. Seeing these trends after many months of eating and exercising sensibly, during which she lost a great deal of weight, she tried to focus on exercise more during the waxing cycles, and more on portion-reducing or strict adherance to portion maximums during the waning cycles. She never stopped eating sensibly, or stopped exercising, but rather focused on stronger, harder workouts during one period, and being very strict with her caloric intake during another.

For those of you not in the know, Susan Miller and I have a good writer/reader relationship which started back in 2001 when a friend referred her to me. Susan's website (referenced earlier) focuses on detailed monthly forecasts citing specific dates within a month, rather than daily "short blurb" forecasts. I not only find these detailed forecasts more informational, but they were alarmingly accurate. She called every major event, with gross detail, for the first 2 years I read her, a period in my life fraught with life-changing events both stressful and blissful. (A stressful one = She warned of impending unemployment; I was unemployed for 11 months after 9/11. Or a series of helpful hints during that period = "don't take a job you don't see yourself enjoying...as one you've wanted for a long time is coming up fast" = Apple. A blissful one = Duane) I've come to trust her. These were huge changes in my world.

I'm going to try focusing on the lunar cycles with regards to hammering at my homeostatic state. Like I've said, I've found that my body responds to the monthly luncar cycles, evinced by the data in my journals. With propoer, informed focus I can make use of these trends and see greater success in the future than I did inadvertently fighting those cycles in the past. Stay tuned!

Another season has passed, and it seems, so has another band member.
All the best, Allan. Hope you find your new path with happiness.

What's next? The future...

A nice lunch with Mom, then a Le Creuset hunt in South San Francisco.
A shared bottle of wine pouring over Bon Appétit and Sunset magazines.
A menu planned, delegated, and several copious lists put together.
I think I'm ready to host Tday. Lord love a duck.
An early Sunday morning, a flatware hunt, and success. Shiny. Deep spoons.
A hasty retreat from a matineé. Kids are bright and cute, but toxic.
Peanut butter smeared on a pancake. Naughty but nice.
An evening blowing things up, a walk in the clear darkness, a birdie.
Not a bad weekend at all.

f.u.b.a.r. = Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition

Well, I'm entrenched in a depression of sorts. On the way to work I was numb until NPR told me that 11 states voted to amend the constitution to ban gay marriage. 8 of those want to ban the creation of legislation supporting civil unions, and 3 of them want to ban creation of domestic partnership beneift laws in their states (Arkansas, Michigan, and another I can't remember.) Newly (re)elected Christian Republicans are all over the airwaves talking about how they'll use their Faith to guide them in their policy-making decisions. I cried on the way to work this morning. Not good during a morning commute.

I went to work early to get this off my mind today. But it's not working.
Duane - expect the need for a lot of hugs for the next few weeks. I'm going to wrap myself in my security blanket of denial and marvel that I'll be 37 years old before Bush is out of my life for good. The only light at the end of this tunnel is that at least by then, the Bush family can no longer lead their personal, private wars against the leaders of countries that hold some sway over the oil industry (and pretend it's all about something else.)

Enough. I need to zen out now. Denial, at least temporarily, can be a bandage of sorts.

Adam

Semi-acoustic guitar...purdy

"You are really great at your job, Adam. You think things through and try to make the wisest decisions. I totally admire that in you. :) Do what ever you think is best. I am behind you 100%."

So, I rejoice over my weight loss, dropping to 239.8 pounds.
Now I lament the smidgen of points I've lossed for my daily counts.
I've seen friends go through this, I can deal, too.
Old daily count: 28-33
New daily count: 26-31

It's two frickin points lost per day. Shouldn't be that difficult, right? Know who I feel like? Read the Title did you??

ONE pointy-wointy! Bwa Ha Ha Ha!
TWO point-wointies! Bwa HA HA ha ha ha!

Ah, Count. Count my points for me would you?

At home on a Friday, putting together a schedule to get this stuff done today.
What stuff? The stuff birthdays are made of, baby!

1. Scour kitchen (it really needs it, and I hate baking in cluttered mess.)
2. Pick up final ingredients for cake.
3. Put cocoa/espresso powder concoction on for it's boil, and cooling.
4. Put laundry in.
5. Mix cake batter, bake, get to cooling to room temperature.
6. Get frosting going, get to cooling to room temperature.
7. Get to Barnes & Noble for heavy weight wrapping paper.
8. Put laundry in drier.
9. Wrap LARGE present...not sayin yet in case Mr. Bryant is peeking here...
10. Assemble/frost a 4-layer cake....keep frosting...finish frosting.
11. Have a drink. Shower.
12. Show off cake to Duane.
13. Watch Duane upwrap present - grin mightily.
14. Head to Webb ranch for great pumpkin hunt with Duane.
15. Head to SJ to party with Mr. Jameson.

Bask.

Christopher Reeve passed away Sunday, October 9th from cardiac arrest. He'd been in a coma since Saturday night due to complications of an infection common to those suffering from paralysis.

Though he spent a great deal of his career trying to "Escape the Cape" and prove to the world he could do more than play Superman, watching Superman The Movie countless times as a child on an old VCR tape helped me pursue my childhood dreaming. Dreaming that continues today. Since his accident he's lobbied for increased patients rights and stem cell research, and continued to win acting awards. I learned only after his passing that he won an Actor's Guild Award for portraying the lead role in a televsion reprisal of one of my favorite films, Rear Window. I will soon watch this film and remember him.

With Love and Light, Christopher...

Adam

Have you ever stopped and wondered that we take note when we feel bad, but rarely when we feel good? I mean people will always stop and chat about what an awful day at work it is, or how tired they are, or if they feel sick. How often do they stop you, look you in the eye and say, "I feel great!" or "I'm having the best day!" In large part I think it's because feeling good is the baseline state for humans, and as a result feeling good is no big deal - it's the state we all want to stay in. But feeling bad is something that arises from any number of outside stressors that are a part of our daliy lives, and talking about them makes them easier to deal with. Now I'm not saying anything as trite as "rid yourself of stress and feel joy!" as that's something we all know we should/could/can do, but life does go on. I've just seen in myself that I spend more time noticing when I feel badly, rather than stopping and looking around at my world and noticing that I'm doing good. This may be me smelling the roses as for the first time in a month my foot isn't in either exruciating or at least annoying pain, but I also slept really well last night, am on program food wise, and am just enjoying the onset of Fall. Even with the normal stressors in my life, I feel like noticing when they're *not* affecting me, rather than wallowing in their effect when they're in my face.

And the Podiatrist zaps me again...2 more weeks of fun...

It's the 22nd of September, and Happy Solstice.

Start watching nature. Most people only pay attention to temperature changes around Fall in California. Keep your eyes peeled. Colors, smells, sights - so much is changing and true to California patterns, it's all happening very fast.

I have a pessimisstic fear of failure. Despite all of my good intensions to get back on, and stay on plan, I've already convinced myself I'm going to fail. And now that I have this foot issue to deal with, and can't manage a good amount of exercise, these feelings are compounded. I've developed a lack of trust of myself.

Here's a forehead-slapping statement: I know exactly how to lose weight and get into very good shape.

I'm not touting a new regimen, a new fitness guru I've recently discovered, or found a pill that makes it all go away overnight. I'm serious when I say I know how to do this on my own, with everyday grocery foods, and the exercise equipment and gym membership I already have.

There is this fog I walk into when I approach food and exercise, however. It's like captaining a boat...you know where land is, you know exactly where to dock, but when you point the bow in the right direction, fog lifts and clear sight is gone. Why does this happen to me with food and exercise? It feels like a complex psychological conundrum, but for some reason, this morning I can break it down: (1) I don't believe I can change my body when faced with a very old, very big, very scary issue in my life, (2) I don't trust the knowledge I've gained designed to help me complete that task.

Let me tear those two points down into even smaller bits. First, that I don't believe in myself as a person who can accomplish a goal I've reached for since I was a very young man. Problem One: I've never felt that I've attained an impressive goal I've set for myself. Problem Two: When I do attain a goal, it's taken a lot of hard work, but the ultimate goal still seems so far away and I feel that I'll never make it.

Second, I have major baggage when it comes to the core knowledge I pulled from my education. I was terrible at taking tests, managed to develop a phobia of them that I never directly faced. The result was that I felt I couldn't trust what I thought I knew. I would study and study and converse with fellow students, be able to critically analyze the concepts or data, but when asked to take tests...I froze up. The bulk of my formal education was a binge and purge process, cram the info in, spill it out on paper. How well you spilled, labeled you either a "good" student, or a "bad" one. More often than not I was just filling my brain instead of using it. Now, where is all of this going? Back to my original point, that's where - I know how to lose the excess weight I'm carrying, and prodce a healthy, flexible muscle tone. I have all the information I need. I just don't trust that information to work. I feel like I'll fail the test and be deemed "bad" by the harshest, nastiest teacher I ever had: me.

I don't have to settle for the fog. I can admit the fog isn't really there. It's in my head.

Here's a summation of what I logically know that I know...you know?
--I have a tried/true method of logging my nutrition. I've used it for a few weeks at a time and have seen the results it brings even without exercise.
--I know enough about food nutritional content to know what works for weight loss and what doesn't, and in what proportions.
--I know that long-term, moderate intensity level exercise will decrease weight on my body without creating physical stressors or pains that keep me couch-bound with injury, or bore me, etc.

What I know challenges me, and what I have to focus on:
--Avoiding the fog. I think the fog is pure emotional crud. Fear of failure, lack of trust. I need to practice listening to my conscious mind, not my Id.
--I need to learn to balance my levels of: "must do this" and "must be able to let go now and then" without compromising everything I'm doing.

I tend to me a man of extremes (off/on, black/white) when it comes to things I find difficult. Like as a kid, I'd eat my vegetables first, fast, just to get them out of the way. In the past I've staved off alcohol completely, tried pure Atkins, fasted, etc. All very intense approaches to issues. It's been said that amazing willpower is needed to to these kinds of things, but I feel it's misplaced willpower. I need to really learn what "moderation" means. Really really focus on how it would help me. Learn patience. Find some peace, and be. If I could hold onto moderation as rabidly as I've been black/white about these misplaced uses of willpower...I honestly think I could one day stop fighting with myself so much.

I got to do something I've wanted to do for years over the weekend. It came about after an odd set of circumstances. Well, at least they were interesting to me.

At the beginning of each month I read my monthly astrological reading, from a woman who's called all my important dates/events for years. She mentioned that I'd be gaining a lot of space in my home in the near future, either from a roommate moving out, or moving into a new apartment, or buying a new house. Well, the idea of any of these options freaked my shit out. So, sort of like putting down a 1/2 eaten mother-f'ing good cookie you *know* will make you sick, I stopped reading and tried to think clearly.

D and I were not in trouble, but we had been talking about buying a house recently. We'd put the idea on hold after some preliminary research, and had confirmed that decision after another bout of research over Labor Day weekend. So what was the clincher?

A week passes. Work work work. The next weekend comes and - bam. I pointed at the dining room table and asked him, haltingly, "When was the last time we used that...that...circular flat object with spindly legs yonder?" He followed the path of my finger and said, "I sat there and wrote a list the other day..." The next morning, I was sipping coffee and diddling the table with an alan wrench and rolling the round glass top down the hall. An hour later, carpets were moved, everything was vacuumed, plants were shifted...and voila! We had a huge amount of new space in the apartment. Two days later, we're still marveling. It's way cool. I walk into work this AM and an auto-notification pops up on my computer screen: "*watch*". I open the reminder to find the astrological portent reminding me of an increase of space, and domestic matters take precedence, and now is the best time to do it, or get future domestic matters going...

A smack to the forehead, a giggle, and a healthy sigh later...I have more space, the thing which people tell me is a "dining table" (how silly) is gone, and my apartment looks frickin huge now.

Oh, and what I'd always wanted to do was admit I don't need/use a dining table. We eat Roman style on the floor, or the day bed in our home, thank you very much.

*snap snap*

Have you ever decided that some things in your life need a change and not been able to actually make the changea stick? I'm not going to go into specifics because some of the things I struggle with aren't interesting to other folks as they're small, and deep in my head, and have little or nothing to do with other human beings. Not trying to be secretive, just learning to look deeper inside on my own.

I'm a being of grays, so that these thoughts are of the black and white type is pretty alarming. Example: Have a problem? Fix it. And when the solution doesn't work or even present itself, I say Guh? I crack myself up.

I guess I'm having fun unravelling the things in my head that don't make sense when thought of rationally. "*Why* do you keep that pot on that back burner if you don't need it? Hell, why is that in a pot? I should be using these burners for important stuff. Guh?" I may sound like I'm in danger of spending too much time in my head, but I'm in the business these days of finding root causes for behaviors, mental attitudes, reactions, etc. Am I being overanalytical? No. You have to anayze *too* much to be that. I'm just starting to pay attention to the bits and pieces that have made up part of the autonomic me - the part that just does things or feels things that sometimes feel unhealthy afterwards.

I am sometimes confused - hear me Guh.

I'm having one of those weeks where I know I want to write in here, but can't find the time or energy. So here goes a list style of events last weekend:

Kings Mountain Art Faire
cooler woods in the heat
cedar wood shavings on the ground
lots and lots of people eating breakfast at picnic tables
heat
pricey booths
beautiful art
breakfast at Alice's
heat
comic books in front of a fan
popsicles
blooming plants
lots of watering
hot tubs/cold plunges at Watercourse Way
drinking beer in a public park after dark looking at stars in the cooler evenings

From Chuck Galvin's walls. The Bird Man of Marin County.

1. Get in touch with your in-fun-it self.
2. Develop your fool potential.
3. Don't forget how unique and special you are. Without you there could be no everybody.

We traipsed into SF to the Great American Music Hall last night to see Concrete Blonde, one of Duane's favorite bands in the world, and now offically one of mine. My first sighting of them, was apparently his 7th. I've found that not an unusal ratio going to a lot of concerts this summer with him.

If you've never seen the inside of this place, go. Check it out. It's smack out of the 40's and 50s era of dance halls. You know, a dime a dance, a dime a lady? It's a miniature opera house with a spacious bare wooden floor in the center. The upstairs is a giant balcony circling the "dance floor" with tables and ringside seats. The stage is two-story. The kind where you can picture a small brass band, drumset, vocalist, or maybe a string ensemble in the upstairs portion. Yeah, I could feel the age of the place. Good times have been had under that roof. Prohibition there must have been a blast.

Anyway, Zonk opened for them. They were a techno-pop group with lots of good talent, and plenty of ideas. A guitar player with his own PowerBook and keyboard, no drums but a DJ set-up replete with a Titanium, base player with a harmonica brace around his neck, and a skinny red-headed vocalist in a Chinese dress prone to bullhorns and a kazoo. Yeah, it was interesting. I know you wanna hear it now ;)

Then intermission, followed by Concrete Blonde's emergence. A 3-piece band (drums, guitar, bass). Jim Mankey, the guitarist, is a middle-aged guy with gray hair, crocodile boots, and talent instead of skin - damn he could pluck the strings. And Johnette....well, kudos for her on all levels. She walked out in a black. fitted, shiny, knee length, sleeveless number (no frills), long black hair and a cowboy hat low on her brow, and barefoot. It was warm in there, so the hat came off fast, perhaps blown off by the force of her voice. That woman plays bass, and makes your skin ripple with the volumes and tones she can achieve. She's one of those singers who "don't do" mastering of the vocals. No need.

They played for neary 2 solid hours and the time flew by. Aside from the diehard behind me who woo-hooed in my ear one too many times during the first 3 songs, the entire experience was fantastic. I hate being critical of diehards, cuz every band deserves em, but this guy was in my right hear. I found that an abrupt about face and a curious expression from a 245 pound guy like me is enough to make a guy stop yelling - I didn't want to be a dick, but he woo-hooed during every one of Johnette's vocal peaks of the first 3 songs. Imagine going to a concert and only being allowed to hear the choruses, and you'd get my frustration. He fortunatly moved off, or got too hoarse to yell anymore, and I could ear every sordid, sexy, magnificent dulcet tone Johnette pumped out the rest of the night...ah, heaven.

This is a day for ffff(udge). Finally sat down to figure out (once again) how to sync my Palm Pilot to the computer. Figured it out. Also figured out how to delete programs from the Palm. Managed to somehow accidentally delete all of my point-counting data for the last 4 months. *rolling eyes, breathing deeply*

I've been having a hard time getting back on the wagon since coming back from vacation, and (I've posted this before) I know it's my weakness. Even though I mindfully gave myself permission to eat what I wanted, and not count points. Even though I went on 1 to 1.5 hour walks, sometimes multiple walks per day, every single day. Even though I only gained 1 pound during the trip.

Note to Self: Adam, one of your biggest hurdles in life is giving yourself a frickin break. No one, and I repeat, No One, is harder on me than anyone else. My problem is I'm still sort of on vacation from counting points, and haven't been doing it consistently for the last 2 weeks. The result? A sense of failure.

It's annoying that I can make those break-giving decisions and still berate myself as if I'd failed somehow. It's as if somewhere on a backburner in my brain is a big ugly pot of burnt goo that I refuse to toss, but let sit and smoke and fester, if only to remind myself that I can fuck up and am likely to do it again.

On the otherhand, there's this "clean slate" sensation from having to start anew withe a fresh point-counting database. Sort of feel like I can start from scratch and not worry about the last 3 or so weeks of random days of 0 points catalogued. Sigh, sometimes it has to be the small pleasures that get you through, ya know?

oh briliiant, Adam

that hangover was mighty fun

dumb dumb dumb

Happy Sunday everyone! Did you wake up to barf at 4 am?
You don't know what you you're missing. Or perhaps you do, which makes you smarter than me.

I have been on vacation, that's where. From everything.

A week at the beach, where I conciously said FU to all things regarding counting points, or exercise. I just said bleah to it all and enjoyed myself. Came back and had gained only 1 pound. Not bad if you ask me. Now I'm back at work and up to my ears in everything. I've kept my cool, and have even enjoyed being busy, and I'm still carrying a bit of joy and peace from the vacation with me.

What else? Read on...

What makes the last couple of week stand out?

The most amazing cookie recipe in the freakin world.
Brownies to make you underwear vibrate.
Home!
Wisteria that grew several feet and is happily reaching out everywhere.
Large Large pots to replant, uh, not everything?
Daddy-O has a brand new job, and his energy is bluuuuue and greeeeen.
A smiling moon.
Being your own tornado, stirring things up just for fun.
A new non-stick saute pan.
New clothes that fit, in my colors.

Sleeeeep in my oooowwn bed.

Ozzfest last night at Shoreline. The great unwashed and mounds of back fat. Lackluster performances, crazed fans, lots of BO, sunburns, and ugly.

I've never seen Shoreline packed to the seams, but there we were. Part of the throng. We eventually hid in the huge bar behind the stage and watched the close-up shots of the stage on the huge monitors. And drank. And people-watched. And commented. We were bad. But it was all in good fun.

No more conerts for a while. *big sigh* Yay!

Duane noticed a difference in me, physically, last night. He stopped and had a long look. "It's really noticeable, baby. You're doing it!"

8)

I have no idea what to expect at my weigh in tomorrow. I've been eating on plan all week, but being home Tuesday with food poisoning and consuming the equivalent of one simple meal that day has me with a big ? above my head.

The food poisoning also sapped my energy physically. Today (Friday) is the first day I feel normal. So my original plan to do something light every day is kaputz. One way or the other, I feel great about being on plan all week!

I pulled a pair of old jeans out yesterday and can fit into them. They'll be my test jeans over the next month or so. The looser the better over time.

So...crab. Crab is a wonderful thing: low point, high flavor, love them bottom feeders. Unfortunately I'll be avoiding it for a little while. Had a bout of food poisoning yesterday. Fortunately my plan of not going to work, eating toast, water, cottage cheese, and a high fiber cereal, a couple of 2 hour naps, and a 9 hour evening of sleep seem to have pulled me back.

Came in under 14-19 points as a result. Food was not my friend yesterday. The good news? I'm hungry. The better news? Not *that* hungry. A bit wobbly, but much much better.

Just hoping coming in under points won't muck up my progress this week in face of my monthly weigh in this Saturday...

leg-barnacle: n. [leg + barnacle] any of large, long-limbed mammalians, mostly humanoid, prone to clutching the leg of nearest, adored similar-humanoid persons with full arm/leg hug using similar-humanoid's foot as resting point. Walking usually encumbered.

I was leaving for work this morning, and felt decidedly dissatisfied with something. It took all of 2 seconds to figure out what that was. The reason has been in my noggin for weeks. I do things half-assed. A lot. It has to do with that "backburner" issue I was talking about, I think. It appears I have more back there than on the front burners. Does this make sense? Kind of? That's OK. It only kind of makes sense to me either, but the idea that I'm very interested in change resounds in my head, so this process of figuring stuff out is very very good - important.

Please check this blog as often as you remember to. I need to be pestered when I don't have entries. I need to be held accountable by people I care about. People who'll be supportive and non-judgemental. I feel like I'm on the verge of opening Pandora's warehouse. And I'm not quite sure what's inside. I just know that I'm really really very phsycially and emotionally exhausted leaning against the door to keep it closed. *sigh* I'm happy, though. Happier than I have been in years. But that happiness came because I finally have wonderful things in my life I've wanted and worked hard for for years. Now that I can look elsewhere...I'm seeing what's been neglected, nay left on a backburner, for a very long time. Crappy seguey...

I've been reading online blogs of people who are successfully redefining how they handle dis-ease in their bodies. These people are not half-assed. They're serious. They're speaking a language that sounds vaguely familiar to me. I feel like a kid who was born in a place where they speak one language, but moved away and learned to speak another. I see their success, I can read about it. I can't feel it however - lack of experience I guess. I need to return to my training, how I was educated. I was educated as a scientist and know the only way to document anything worth documenting is to have proof of it. Soon, I'll be upgrading this blog to have various new sections: the edible grimoire, the mobile grimoire, and the thinking grimoire. Food/Exercise/Journal. I need to track my efforts. Ideas/Successes/Failures. Most of all, I need to feel accountable to *myself*.

OK. I'm at work. I'm working. I should be, that is. I'll go. Keep reading!

Hairspray - I recommend it, but you probably knew I would. They even made room for a short monologue where Edna Turnblad shot off some good one-liners to we SF-ites. Opening scene? A giant bed in a 60s-teenage girl's bedroom standing on-end (picture the audience hovering over her bed looking straight down) as young Tracy wakes up and belts it from beneath the sheets.

A six-pack of Fat Tire (D kept it a surprise until I unwrapped the liquor store's plain brown wrapper) in Golden Gate Park while we watched ducks scoot about in green waters, skunks wobble across the paths, and great white herons coasting in over our heads to hobnob with the duck parades.

Dinner at the Blue Muse on Gough. It sounded familiar for various reasons, but only when I saw the place did it all click. meriko has mentioned it before, and it turns out I've been there back in when during its incarnation as a piano bar catering to many a-Gay man with my father and his then-current co-hort. Prawns Venice over onions suffused with lemon grass, black pepper and garlic, saffron rice, and steamed green beans. D had a Peppered Rib Eye and it melted on the tongue. He had a Greek Salad you wanted to hit on, and I had a mildly dry caesar - I kind of like them dry now that I've experienced it. I had a glass of Pinot Grigio of indeterminate origin, but it was very very tasty. And we ate bread! With butter....*drool* Then we made our way home and enjoyed a quiet evening.

Had breakfast at the Millbrae Pancake House after finding ourselves pulled over in front of a good ol' fashioned fireworks stand on El Camino. We bought the Nite Thriller Package, a brick of "California Blooms", and a 6-pack of Picollo Pete's. Avoid the Pete's. They're the one's that do nothing but make that screeching noise you hear for miles. A nice quiet afternoon, then off to Mark's in SJ where we played with fire and blew things up in a fine American tradition. Boom! Pretty!

Governor Schwarzenegger is conducting a phone poll that includes same-sex marriage.

Predictably, right-wingers are flooding the office with calls. Since we are trying to pass a slew of marriage and domestic partner bills here in California, it's a good time to show support on the issue.

Takes less than a minute.

Call (916) 445-2841

On the phone tree, press in order:

Press #5 for "Hot Issues."
Press #1 for Same Sex Marriage.
Press #1 to support gay marriage in California.

it's been said by *some* cute, wascally monkeys that I do not post often enough, so here goes....

...uh...

...yeah...

no really - it's been a great 2 days since I've been back on plan and I feel good about myself. I'm hoping that I'm on an upward spiral since I've figured out what my main hurdles are, and have voiced them to certain monkeys, which has made them real somehow

it's an interesting concept - making tangible by speaking of them the things that seemed unreal before - makes you wonder about what you can really create in your own universe, doesn't it?

I've also, apparently, gotten to the point where 2 glasses of wine knock me on my ass

*swoon*
*giggle*

my love to you, monkey
and *no* I don't go always go hippy dippy just after a snort or two, ask Duane ;)

let's just say a little birdie told me it's all about moving forward

it's been said this is my annual new moon, a cosmic birthday present with which I can do anything I choose, that I'm ready to announce my priorities and move forward with confidence, knowing the universe is behind me, that this is the time of the month to make my biggest intiations and announcements...

I'm big
in body, mind and soul

I'm happy
in mind and soul

I'm prepared to make 3 for 3 in the happiness department

when I was young, somwhere, somehow, I began to believe that physically I was less than perfect, that I was not up to par, that I was inadequate, or a disappointment - I think I took that belief to heart, and the problem here is that what you believe is what the universe creates for you

this power of self-creation is monumental, and has roots in my spirituality that lead me to believe I have more control than I could possibly imagine regarding the state of my body, my mind, my soul - my universe

I have never believed I could make myself happy in my own body, and to rights, I never have - until a little birdie came and spoke to me...

like I said, it's time to make 3 for 3 in the happiness department

I know so, because now, finally, I think I believe it

watch my smoke

it's been a long time coming, but I finally sat and listened
just listened
I recommend it to anyone

don't think, just let your subconscious ask a questions and see what happens
I won't suggest what may happen because I don't want to color your experience, but here's what happened to me when I did it

at first, nothing...

I asked a hard question silently
then I got a little teary eyed
I felt a sort of positivity, with a huge question mark over it
was I going to keep that positivity?

then a familiar sound came about - a steady *thrum* and over the bannister of my deck swooped a hummingbird - straight to the feeder my mother gave me for my birthday

instantly distracted from my reverie, it was beautiful, breathtaking
green, goldish sort of
it tasted at the feeder several times, then several more

I remember thinking - finally! one has found my feeder
the next thought was - he/she's probably been feeding here off and on today
where'd that come from?

then quick as a blink, it swooped to within one foot (I kid you not) of my face and regarded me - just appeared to....comtemplate...

making jittery side to side motions - 5 steps this way, then 5 steps that way
I could feel the downdraft all over my arms and legs (I told you it was close)

for those in the know - it was reminiscent of the "moon dance"

it lasted for what seemed like 15-20 seconds, all told

then it moved back about a foot, turned away as if to leave, then turned to look at me again, then swooped away as fast as he/she'd come

now - thinking of what I'd been out there to do...

when you ask a troubling question, and you feel like you've wanted the answer all of your life, and all you want is to feel some positivity about it all...

...does the indescribable joy of that kind of visit constitute an answer?

you bet your ass it does ;)

--wake up with Duane, be supportive of him (his job-happiness is sketchy right now), kiss him good-bye, get back in bed and read more of Carl Sagan's Contact with coffee

--futz around house in preparation for company on Saturday (and besides, the house energy needs to be stirred up a bit, it's feeling a little too stagnant)

--get in the car and scout hiking trail off Skyline, then do a U-turn and head to HMB Nursery for goodies and supplies

--repot several plants in the house, including the Origanum Barbara Tingey that arrived yesterday.

--set up DSL router (that's right, we're getting DSL installed next Tuesday)

--stand with hands on hips and stare at the deck garden - an altar is in the making, I just need to find out where it will appear

--clean deck fountain that's scummy due to pretty but rat-fart pine tree over NW end of deck

--sit in apartment complex sauna and sweat and think about whether I'm going to be serious about getting my body back into shape, changing my life/food habits to accommodate that goal, or just decide to stop worrying about it once and for all (something I've been obsessing over since I was 16 frickin years old)

--continue teaching Kelly to say "hello" like a saucy Austin Powers (she's listening very carefully, I expect breakthroughs beyond her initial "rrrrrr's" and "ruh-ruh's"

--laugh maniacally at myself for attempting this

--decide what to wear to dinner (Duane and I are going to Café Niebaum-Copolla in Palo Alto at 9pm - if he's home earlier, we'll be at the wine bar beforehand)

--come home and watch an episode or two of Buffy, 5th season

--sleep...

This Friday is my birthday. As the week unfolds, day by day, I'm noticing strange changes on the back burners in my head. Does that happen to you? In my head there's an industrial-super-sized stove with many, many back burners. There are the typical dishes on them, and some odd ones that seem more experimental. Some are simmering, some cooling, some are even overcooked and producing a funny smoke I thank the heavens I can't smell.

Some are much older than the rest. They're in big, insulated pots, and never get moved and the heat is never turned up or down. These pots, ergo ideas, jumped to the front of the stove when I wasn't looking. I turned around during a quiet moment the other day and jumped a foot to see a couple of them practically leaning towards me, their lids rattling as little poofs of steam burbled out. I was surprised, you see, because they've been contentedly sitting in the back there, all tucked away behind the newer pots, on a very low simmer.

I'm being vague here with my metaphors because to be quite honest, I'm not sure what's in some of these pots anymore. They really want me to know what's cooking over their low heat, but for some reason, I'm hesitant.

But one of them, I'm quite sure of its contents. I've added ingredients to it off and on for most of my life, and the resulting mixture has yet blossomed into the dish I've been craving....perhaps I finally have the right ingredients in store for it...hmm

I love my boss.

Have you ever been completely caught off guard with strokes you didn't even know you needed?

Yesterday, my manager came into my office grinning like a cat. She told me my bonus had been approved. (One I didn't know she'd requested on my behalf.) She said I was qualified for a job elsewhere in the company at her level, and though she didn't want me to go, I should look at the job description. It also seems that various people in the company (don't even know who all of them are, and not just in my department) have been giving our HR rep the hint that I'm darned good at my job. *grin*

Those unsolicited strokes....nice....

what brings us togevvuh today....

mawage...

was riding my bike down Cañada Road the other day and nearly tipped over when I saw what they've done! this pic is an old shot, but now that lawn area is sculpted, there's a reflection pool and benches and stuff! it's not quite open yet, but "sfwater.org" says it's slated to open in early 2004. can't wait ;)

temple news

so many musings, so many things untold, so many people who are dying to know, right? *ahem* of course you are!

thanks to dem borogoves for giving me the space to process or pontificate publicly - because obviously *they* want to know!

Love me you