I plan to cut myself later for the hair rock title reference.

I got on the bike today – first time this year. I didn’t ride much last year to my shame. The stress of my job, moving a couple times and general despair kept me away. As a result, I’ve become a lazy, out of shape bastard. But, “Oh,” you say. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, ” you say.

I’d like to take such warm advice and wishes from you, but its largely true. I rode 5.5 miles today, and it took some work. Though, as usual, it feels more a problem of getting my lungs caught up with my muscles. I went from our apartment to a Franklin Park, and around it. Franklin park is the largest in the Boston area. Its kind of shabby, and I really don’t think the fucking golf course should count towards the acreage. Its also pretty shabby and beat up. Any paths are in sore, sore shape. I went from street, to path and such trying to find my way around it. Not a bad ride in all, but the first time on a new route can be tougher. I did appreciate being able to legitimately stop when I was figuring it out.

Despite the burning lungs, it was a lot of fun, and there was almost no one on my route. I always forget how much I like it until I do it. And, better to do a simple fitness test as such, and know where I am rather than talk about my glory days as I get deeper into the non-fitness downward spiral. A chum and I talked about doing a century this year, but I am not hopeful. We’ll see once I get in shape, but there are also some logistical concerns. I lost a chunk of time off with the move, and have a couple obligation vacations this year.

The general goal right now is to see if I can get myself riding to and from work. Quite a different challenge than DC, as it appears to be a bit less than double the distance. If I can do it, it’ll mean 18-20 miles a day. That’d be damn sweet, and I’d be looking damn good by the end of the summer. And probably feeling good, which I typically do after just about any post-ride shower.

As a side note, I can hardly wait to get the the freaking doctor who rescheduled my appointment later so I can get to another doctor so I can get allergy shots. I have cause to worry, though I can’t show you, as it seems I’ve disabled the image-adding-gui in my blog. So, I’ll tell you. Pollen counts are rated on a scale of 0-12, with 9.7+ being the OMG range. Depending on the pollen, I can start having issues at half that. Often, if its in that OMG range for a few days, medications will only take the edge off. So Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed 9.9 | 9.3 | 10.9 | 11.6

Similar to allergies, I seem to readily forget the impact she has on my life. In this case as a stabilizer, reminding me to take care of my self a bit. Its always a shock, 3 days in, to realize I’ve gotten 4 hours a sleep each night and getting fatigued. Its some primordial lack of discipline, to be sure. Throughout the absence, I oscillate back and forth between states of focus and doing, and states of surrealism and being damned tired.

It was in one of these fatigued states I had a mini-revelation, that I’ve not completely sorted out as yet. First, I must provide some context and a bit of history.

Friends in recent years have heard me lament numerous times my concern that I’ve lost my edge. I don’t feel like I take enough chances, speak out enough, muster the same rage at the system as I used to. Kind of the plight of the aging punker. I’ve a difficult time moving on from who I was trying to be, even when it doesn’t fit anymore. As a result, I often lag behind myself and what I should be doing. I’ve been trying to reconcile the former agitated self and the new self, and not doing a very good job of it.

There are certainly life-explanations. I have a lot more education and age now. It makes sense that I am more attuned to the nuance of situations and recognize “its just not that simple”. As I’ve gained more stability and success, it also makes sense I take less risk, put myself out there more: I have something to lose now and the system benefits me. I imagine an element of burn out plays in, especially with my inability to quickly adapt myself to the now. I put a huge amount of effort into cultivating who I was in a particular environment. It’s exhausting to always make choices according to how you think things should be, rather than just riding along. Often, I get Nihilist about the world, and don’t feel it matters or I cede all my agency, not seeing what meaningful impact I could have.

So, I find myself riding along more and more. I don’t like this person. While the argument of maturity certainly assuages some of the sell out guilt, it robs me of the meaning of my own actions. I used to take pride in my stances. (Some would argue too much.) Its one of the things that my friends came to value in me. I stood strong, was thoughtful and even-minded. Aside from a lifestyle that made sense to me, I think it also provided some anchorage to people around me.

Now, I find myself asking myself what I stand for. What I believe in. I have a difficult time maintaining passion. Part of it is environment to be sure. I am now around more educated folks who seem afraid to be angry, and make it feel inappropriate for me to feel that way. (Also, the amount of ignorance among the educated is an astounding.) I find I oft’ have little in common among my colleagues, as such. This makes it hard to get excited about socializing. The same old discussions bore me to no end, and represent a kind of mental masturbation. “We are clearly superior, seeing the world as we do. If only those slobs we smarten up and see it our way…” Even when I muster the anger needed for action, it ushers in a hopelessness as I struggle to see how I might really affect change.

Looking back, I believed that my life and choices would have impact. I possessed an almost singular focus and vision. At work, at school, with my friends, in the store, I always had a sort of social scanner going. It was like I trained myself to recognize any number of patterns that were counter to my world view. My thoughts ran deep and critical, and I even managed to articulate them.

Now its different. Again, I’ve left behind depression (though gained some anxiety) and my unstable trapped world. Along with this, left that focus and vision. I’ve tried to find a way to regain it, to no avail yet. I don’t know what drives me right now. Part of moving on from depression was believing I could take some of it with me, but what I did seems to ebb more and more. (To clarify, the vision was more sociological than personal, if that makes sense.)

What’s this got to do with Dana in Atlanta? The sleep. The last day or so, I found myself so tired I had to struggle and fight for wakefulness. I was beyond tired – I was exhausted. I was fatigued enough to almost ache. That’s when I noticed – the sociological third-eye had returned. Even the literal way I saw the world was the same as a decade ago. I was removed from my body. Disconnected and looking out from my mind. Not distracted, I saw the world more truly, sharper.

I know that anxiety caused my depression, and depression was in part because of the exhaustion caused by being constantly anxious. Now, I am left wondering what this means, that the person I was, and who I was, is completely bound up in me being horribly tired. More importantly, I wonder if knowing this helps or hinders me in reclaiming some of the passion and vision when I am wakeful.

Our plan was to pack on the 8th, drive up on the 9th, and unpack on the 10th. We got a 17 foot U-haul with a car trailer – making us very semi-ish. Friday night, we pretty much slept on the floor. It wasn’t so bad – the internet was one of the last things to be disconnected!

Much to our happiness, a number of people were set to help us load about 10 in the morning on Saturday. We got up, got straight, and got the truck, by 9ish. Egress was blocked in the living by boxes, so I started a pre-move and started hauling boxes out the curb.

For most of the pre-move, things went ace. I had boxes all along the walk, and even a few in the yard. Turns out, I am definitely not as fit or strong as I once was… I lifted one large box I should have put down. A few boxes later, the spasm and pain hit, just as folks were showing up.

Apart from the pre-move, I was 99% useless. I could hardly move, and frankly it was quite embarrassing. Our helping chums were awesome about it, and made sure I didn’t try to help. I think I was walking with a side angle of about 20 degrees and generally breathing through clenched teeth.

Dana kept them loading not that they needed the inspiration. Like the move to Takoma Park, I’ve never had so much help! Dana and I are still quite grateful about it. 3 hours or so, they had the truck completely loaded and locked down. Plants, temporary bedding and computer crap went into the car.

Sunday, the 9th

My back was definitely a problem, painkillers aside. I have had numerous back issues throughout my life, typically from my own stupidity. This one was a doozy. Getting up from the mattress on the floor took a great deal of time. I was trying to pretend its not that bad, and Dana was considering if we need to postpone to get to a doctors.

We (or rather Dana) finally got the last bit loaded, and we picked up the car trailer and got it loaded and set out. You will have to ask Dana about the trip up. I spent most of my time sleeping, thanks to the pain killers. I think I also tried because the truck made me nervous. See – I have been doing public transportation and biking enough that car travel sometimes tweaks me.

Even though we had a good and easy pace, I think we got started a bit later than we intended, and the trip crawled on. The new place is on a dead end street, where just a truck alone would be challenging to turn around – nigh impossible for us mortals with the car in tow. We’d hoped to get to a U-haul to drop off the car, but they close much earlier on Sunday’s.

By the time we were getting to Framingham (west o’ town), it was evident going to the apartment was a bad idea. We opted to spring for a hotel room, and found a place just off the highway, that had parking set up to make it super easy for Dana to park the pseudo-semi. (Hooray, iPhone!)

Monday, the 10th

When we got up, Dana took full advantage of the Dunkin’ Donuts next door, for us. Anyone else notice their once great coffee now tastes like ass? Ewww.

We got the trailer dropped off, and headed to the new apartment. One of the landlord’s workers was kind enough to let us in. We were also lucky in scoring great truck parking. I went down with the car, as Dana waited, to minimize acrobatics in driving. By the time I got back to tell her we were out of luck for the moment, and we got to the apartment, it opened up. Yay!

Dana’s family were the helpers on this end. They came down from Vermont and New Hampshire and got us in. The place is a bit smaller than we thought from our whirl-wind check out and grab. It’d later become apparent the difference was mostly because we no longer had a dining room. Great space though, with the move in, we were setting ourselves up for a mammoth, 3-d 8-puzzle.

But, things were moved in, pizza was eaten, people were seen off, and Dana’s parents would be there soon to help us for a day or 2 installing things, and doing some of the shifting around.

Actually, this story isn’t about TextMate as a whole, but of one of the many functions hidden within.  TextMate can be thought of a modern Emacs in a sense. Except its Mac only.  And its not free. Anyway…  I just discovered that Textmate will turn a page o’ code into an HTML page for you.  With numbers if you want, and the look based upon your theme. (Ah, how I love you syntax highlighting!)

defun something 
  puts something_else 
end

So, I can generate pages like that on whim. Why?  I don’t know. But its freaking tight.  Could make for a nice online repository of browsable code.  You could even bust out yer favorite language with the XSLT, and reconvert it to code. Or, offer a download link. Weehaw.

Whether we arrived here as a result of persistent parenting, careful counseling, or madness, the desire to grow and educate ourselves has forced us all to surmount obstacles, learn new skills, and break from the ruddy ignorance of our youth.

Now thats hot. Inspiration orgasm.  Go ahead. Read it out loud.  Take a moment. Revel.

Since 2004, my partner-incredible and I have had the holiday tradition of a lot of sea food and movies. It started in Chicago when we were pretty broke, and it was an absolute indulgence to get salmon and shrimp on our budget. Each year, we try new types of fish, but this particular recipe was a whimsical thing we have done every year. Its absolutely tasty, and quite easy to make.

You’ll need

• 2-4 Portabella mushroom
• .25 – 1 pound of shrimp
• possibly some assisting mushrooms, like crimini
• cream cheese
• garlic, of course
• pine nuts, or nuts if’n you want

The basic idea is to make a mixture of mushroon, shrimp, cheese, and optional nuts and bake it piled on the portabellas. Below is general guideline assuming 2 mushrooms.

Saute the shrimp in oil/butter and (fresh) garlic. .25 pounds should be good for 2 mushrooms. Basically, you want to prepare the shrimp in a tasty way.

Finely chop the shrimp.

Remove stems from portabella mushrooms. Finely chop them, adding mushrooms to supplement. You are looking to get about twice the volume of shrimp.

If’n you want em, chop a small hand full of nuts.

Mix the shrimp, ’shrooms, and nuts with about 1/5 – 1/4 package of cream cheese. If its hard, I’d suggest microwaving the bowl for about 30 seconds to soften the cheese.

Now might be a good time to pre-heat the oven to 475 or so.

Drizzle some olive oil on the portabellas. Pile the mixture on them. I tend to tamp it down with a fork. If you are feeling zippy, press a few coarsely chopped nuts on top.

Put them on a tray, and put them in the oven for 12-20 minutes. This part is kind of guesswork, really. The top will kind of crisp. Once the mushrooms start to cook, they will get a sorta wet look, and produce some liquid. Give it a bit more time, and then you are golden.

Sauce: 1/2 cup sweet butter (regular margarine works too, but melts a bit faster) 2 garlic cloves shredded 2 cups cream (use the heavy stuff if you can find it) Salt & Pepper to taste 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese 3/4 cup mozzarella cheese

1. Melt butter in medium saucepan over medium/low heat.
2. Add the garlic and cream bring mixture to a simmer.
3. Stir often
4. Add the Parmesan cheese and simmer sauce for 8-10 minutes or until sauce has thickened and is smooth.
5. When sauce has thickened add the mozzarella cheese and stir until smooth. STIR FREQUENTLY!

Chicken: 4 good sized breast (figure ~2 per person), cut into small strips (kind of like what you would do for fajitas). ~2tbs of extra virgin olive oil - oregano and parsley (as needed and a little bit of garlic if I have leftover from the above sauce).

1. Heat frying pan + olive oil to medium heat
2. Add chicken + oregano/parsley
3. Pan fry chicken until nice light golden color

Noodles: I’m pretty lazy and just buy Alfredo noodles at the local market and boil them until they’re ready, drain, and let sit for a few minutes.

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That just sets the stage. You hear about the bullshit in Nebraska? Rape case. Judge said you can’t use these words: ape, sexual assault, victim, assailant, and sexual assault kit. The woman testified for 13, yes THIRTEEN hours without using any of them. As she remarked, and I agree, its a form of assault itself. Disgusting. Sick yet? The judge called a mistrial because he felt the media attention on the case had harmed the juror’s impartiality. He may not be guilty. He hasn’t been found guilty. The first go was a hung jury. But, where is the attempt at justice here? I can taste the misogyny. Putrid.

That all revolts me. Seriously. If I think about it, I start getting queasy and have to stop. What really pisses me off this the state of political commentary on such issues. Why this diatribe? Because I implore all ya all to consider more domestic issues in your work. Its like Iraq is being used as a diversion for the more sinister plan of undermining the rights of women in the country. Match this up our cultural trends toward a faux feminist body empowerment sold by the media, and hyper masculinity all around… Ugh.

But, in case you need something to help hook into the safer material of Iraq — In 2006, sexual assault of women in the military has gone up 26%. Think about that. 26%. And that’s what is known. Where is that in the speeches about supporting the troops? 3000+ women in the military. Who reported. Assaulted by fellow soldiers. There is now a clear line in the troops I can support. Anyone know the military size or the # of women in it? I wonder the percentage of whole on that.

Oh… Did I mention the fellow who assaulted 20 Latino women in MD? They think the # is higher, but immigration stuff is scaring women into not reporting. Personally, I’d like to see tighter immigration controls, but, then, I’d like for my countryMEN not to be able to rape with impunity a whole lot more.

It leads me to think about so many poems I have heard, where the same gender stereotypes are used again and again to plead for peace. Mamma earth. So warm, so comforting. The idealization of the idea of matriarchy. Somehow women are more naturally pure – why, its amazing we (men, of course) don’t seek to protect such… wait a minute…. I see these concepts of indicative of the way most folks think about gender, and it troubles me. I feel like its part of a feedback loop. Part of patriarchy, and matriarchy, is the opposed dichotomy of attributes and values. We pretend to decry the patriarchy, and the war patriarchy has created for us, and yet time and time again we feed it by honoring the same debilitating stereotypes it provides us.

That said, I suppose you could say Mother Earth is an apt metaphor, though damaging. Look at the way our world treats women, and its no shock we treat a feminine planet the same way. That further forces us to rely on gendered stereotypes as calls to action. This anthropomorphism also allows us to externalize the imminent. Its not suicide of the humans. Its hurting Earth. Like earth cares. By my estimation, if we hose it next week with nukes, the earth can try again at least once before the sun consumes it.

But I digress. My point is the accepting of such gender roles only contributes to the growing overt misogyny I see. How long before the media and political scape has completely reworked the language of that debate. We won’t get to hear about the growing violence among and upon women, we’ll get to hear about if certain words are acceptable. Its already started in ‘our’ own movement. I am supposed to support some culture through cultural relativism and some mind numbing version of togetherness even though their practices or beliefs are more misogynistic than our own. Our reckless desire to be open and desperation for allies has sold out women from other cultures. And yet, we claim to be about peace and love. And as our country teaches us, love turns a blind eye towards abuse.

This blind eye isolates people. It makes the problem worse.

That’s fucked up.

And frankly, it pisses me off.

I woke up Saturday into Sunday morning absolutely freezing. I was so cold I actually considered just stealing Dana’s blanket. As it happens, I had a fever. A fever which would last until late Monday, and crop up again a bit on Tuesday. I had one terrible bout of chills during the whole thing, where, with 4 blankets, I was still freaking cold.

Most of the time was sweating though, feeling dizzy and crappy. I did end up going to urgent care, and got told bland food and Gatorade. Three quarts later I was sorta hydrated again. Stomach flu does a number to the backside too. (oi, does it.)

This photo captured exactly how I felt…