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july 31, 2002 - 15:27 - ( i'm bored )

okay, this is blatant theft of content, but my friend just recommended that i view this URL: http://63.96.220.13/3dmodels/sign/

examples of some of the very entertaining gems from the site:

• 'i work at the dmv'
• 'time to commmit suicide'
• 'i grabbed the hooker by her hair'
• 'you got nothing today? i know you got something'
• 'the delicate mechanisms of my sanity are precariously balanced'

one of my particular favs:

'I have carpal tunnel and I'd like to go home for the day.'

Directions: Weak, unconvincing hand wiggle and simultaneous wrist clench. Look as though you're experiencing physical pain.

july 31, 2002 - 9:47

as an avid, (if unintentional), user of yahoo messenger, i have always enjoyed the various superimposed levels of communication that seems to have evolved with the medium.

equal parts productivity tool and distraction, it's a quicker way to get responses from workmates, consequently, it is also the hi-tech embodiement of the low-brow practice of passing notes to friends in class.  do we ever really grow up?

instant messages are typically obvious and directed, but the errant modification of people's 'status' has evolved into a delicate balance of ego, wit, purpose, and boredom.  almost an artform, at times...

it was with much astonishment that i recently watched a good friend's status change from something relatively placid to something that was, err..  not?

sexretarty's* status is now "takes this goddamn job AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR FUCKING ASS U F" (7/31/2002 at 9:45 AM)

i spit tea on my monitor glare shield (commonly considered my splash screen), and almost fell out of my chair laughing...  which, of course, drew the attention of bosslady who happened to be walking by...

...that was a fun one to explain.

* name changed for privacy

july 30, 2002 - 18:10 - as if remembering 'fun'

last night, around 21:15, i finally escaped cuba and fled to a dark corner in the blue where i quietly retrieved ti from concealed satchel and wrote perl behind the glowing apple.

amazing.  even with flashing lights and a keyboard that vibrates with each bass tone, i was infinitely more productive than an entire day (12 hours) spent at my *workplace*.

...to be honest, whilst i sat, swathed in a gentle blue glow punctuated by foreign breakbeats that guide dancing fingers to keyboard with easy rhythm against an improbable background of spinning black vinyl, (it was goth night), it was hard not to feel so futuristic myself.

only with the clarity of a new day do i realize the accomplishments of that which has passed:

this afternoon, as i began to receive responses of solutions ultimately forwarded to 'enterprise customers,' (third parties, entirely unaware that they were given code conceived in a tightly clad, fetish-ist environment, fueled largely by the consumption of white russians), i was pleased to find that each component worked flawlessly.

perhaps i shall force myself to take my more 'difficult' projects to the edge more frequently.  ;)

p.s. - i found a beep worth echoing: computorgirl!

july 30, 2002 - 15:32

addiction: finding a chocolate covered espresso bean on the floor of your cube, and actually considering ingesting it, knowing full well that you haven't had them for over a month.

i think i need help.  ...or maybe, just a swirl.

( ...and no, i didn't eat it, choosing instead to throw it at a co-worker in the adjacent cube.  'get some more damn beans!' )

july 29, 2002 - 20:28 - nager dans le bruit

"you sure do fly alot.  ...and you drink a lot of mango tango; are you sure you wouldn't like to try another flavor?"

it was the first time that she, (the blonde-haired, horn-rimmed glasses-wearing girl who worked at the aero-moka coffee bar near gate c15 in the pdx airport), acknowledged that i was a repeat customer.

on the surface, a simple inquiry, but the implications left me stammering...

honestly, although i had always enjoyed our brief interactions, (which, for the last several months, were limited exclusively to the trading of my delicately folded paper for pre-packaged fruit beverages), i believed that i somehow could blend into the 'chaos' of the mob.

surely, with the thousands of people that stumble past her cart each day, how could one face become familiar?

it was because of this massive inequality that i always looked forward to our interactions.  to me, she was the cute girl who worked at the coffee stand;  conversely, i considered myself simply another complete stranger with each new interaction.

last week she said more than she normally does.  last week, she put it together...  pulling a face from the crowd, she recognized me.  i did not speak, answering instead with a smile and my $2.

what could i say?

this week, this morning, for the first time in 5 months, she was not there.  ...and the travelled space of her cart near gate c15 was all the more foreign in the vacuum of her absence.

..........

i've felt it since i woke up this morning...

the air, with a density unknown even yesterday, weighs in against the most simplistic of aspirations since concious breath one.  were i to have the presence of mind at 3am that i have now, a mere 16 hours later, i might still be in bed.

alas, that was another day ago.  another state (or two) now past.

with frightening predictability, population density of my early morning commuter flight increases logarithmically.  once a dark cabin and a bench of adjacent seats all to myself; now, i find myself fighting for valuable elbow space like a frightened half-concious bear, awakened prematurely from winter hybernation.

i yelled at a man for ham-handing his duffel into the storage bin, compressing and stressing my sandwiched ti.  thus confronted, he did not even blink repetance; i considered bludgeoning him with my rescued bag, but resigned to bose silence instead.  breathe in.

breathe out.  gently banking to the left, i glide through the interchange and resign north to west at a velocity unsafe for the tires that spin below me.  even as the retaining wall hurtles past, i notice the muffler is missing, yet another conspicuous absence after soo many months of silent companionship.

later, after returning to cuba and settling into the mind-erasing hum of the overhead a/c and xerox machines adjacent, i hear familiar whispers that echo with resonance that has been silent for a year.

...implications of a poor quarter are explained in loosely defined terms; admittedly, the future is a great many things, but today it is mostly uncertain, and mostly dark.

in a room, still surrounded by others, i drift deep into my own space, consider the implications of this news to me, my plan.  later, in the security of bose space, compositions played a dozen times before challenge eyes that tremble with purpose.

why does it hit me today?  why does it all weigh in at once?

 -at once, like so many parrallel strings, originally appearing to stretch without bounds, each respective thread suddenly seems to come upon its own frayed end; life fights to become simpler.

i seek refuge on the patio that circumscribes cuba; from a plastic chair in the corner, i stare through nearby trees towards the hill behind the empty parking lot of the company and watch a coyote explore his domain.  (so close, yet so different than my own).

it was then that i noticed, amid a tree filled with green, a single red-tinged leaf.  leaning far over the railing, i risk breaking to bring it closer to me; to capture it for myself.

i've felt it since i woke up this morning...     change is in the air.

my red-tinged leaf; the first sign of change in a sea of green.

july 24, 2002 - 11:09 - crush all hu-mans!!

you know, sometimes, the green phone leads to me:   'Thank you for calling technical support, this is jack speaking...'

actually..  i wish our product was the red robot.   then, when i asked customers to execute command code 'kill -9' they would simply be crushed, never to bother me with their incessant whining again.

in reality, i just use really big words and talk quickly;  i have found that employing obtuse syntax you can actually perform sophisticated plays on semantics that in fact mock the caller while they believe you are merely providing assistance..

july 24, 2002 - 07:48 - wishing cats could talk

morning's odwalla selection: carrot juice

after several weeks of interest, and the last 5 days of rabid anticipation, i finally captured CQ on the big screen..  honestly expecting huge crowds and limited seating in the freshly renovated del mar, i was somewhat shocked to find the cavernous space occupied by only me and my smuggled-in pizza.

which, of course, implies that my pizza was immensely more cultured than all of the people that expressed interest in the film but flaked.  ...perhaps i was too hasty in eating it?

ah: but CQ!  it's (almost) everything i could ever dream of sculpting into a movie; simultaneously an inspiration and a gentle release.  ( -now that it's already been done, perhaps my responsibility has waned?)

-.-- --- ..-   -- .- -.. .   --.
..-. --- .-. --. . -   -- -.--  -.. .-. .- -- ...

several plotlines, delicately interlaced, cautiously layered over one another...  love, disinterest, infatuation, misscommunication, passion, 60's, french, italian, american, citroen, vespa, 16mm, sci-fi, pop, sex....     ...heaven?

july 22, 2002 - 19:01 - ice on elbows just makes it numb

today, rm shared with me yet another example of how boredom breeds ingenuity.

i like to imagine some kid, coming down from a crazy night of amphetimine-fueled coding, (or dancing, or ...), half-asleep and drooling on his keyboard, entranced in subconciousness by the dancing lights of a mandelbrot set screen saver, (which, of course, is manipulated in sync with his mp3 player), and playing absent mindedly with his glowing "optical" mouse.

'sluuurrrp', wiping errant saliva from the corner of his mouth as he lifts his head, he mutters, 'dude, wouldn't it be cool if... '

just brilliant.  i wonder if she would still be interested in making art-lights with me.  distracted blather here stands as unquestionable proof: i'm certainly bored enough.

july 18, 2002 - 17:55 - function for fun

person weekend ( jack )
{

   jack.fun = scooter rally (hells belles);
   jack.sleepLocation = home;
   jack.payday++;
   jack.stress--;

   return jack;

}

july 17, 2002 - 18:25

and suddenly, the scooterboy smiles, as if finally understanding what steve and his sportbiker friends have been saying all along.

it's like dancing...

july 17, 2002 - 12:31 - multipass DANGER!

I ALMOST DIED!  after returning to ascend the stairwell back to the third floor, carrying the soggy pasta bounty of a succesfull raid on the highschool-like work cafeteria, i realized that i had left the comfort of cuba WITHOUT MY BADGE!.

('click' says the door behind, 'nope' says the door before )

there is no phone, there is no window, there is no hope...

defeated, i sit in the corner and begin working on my pasta; it is nearly halfway gone before i realize that i should probably be rationing my food supplies!  ( as there's really no way of knowing how long you might be marooned, how long before... )

i return plastic fork to plate, plate to tray, and then place the tray on the ground.  settling again, i begin to stare up at the ceiling, and trace imaginary friends in the stucco.

.........

after what seemed like days confined in that tiny white space, one of the executive admins happened to stumble upon my little domestic disturbance, cracking open the door and filling the vacuum with fresh(er) third floor air.

(obviously disconcerted to find a man, shoeless, unshaven, emaciated, with shirt tied around his head in the stairwell), it took me quite some time to sedate her screams, let her know it was only me, the dorky engineer in the holster.

sheesh; and people think i overreact to things?

july 17, 2002 - 07:47 - happy pants dance

morning's odwalla selection: carrot juice

after stepping into my chosen pair of pants for the day (blue, white stars), i was pleased to notice that there's only one fresh pair left in the green duffel on the floor.

historically, an observation like this would imply that it's simply time to do laundry; however, in today's "counted-socks" stage of jetset jack, this realization suggests that there's only ONE MORE DAY until he can sleep in his own bed.

ONE MORE DAY till he can draw from the (somewhat bottomless) stack of fresh boxers on the shelf just inside his closet.  ONE MORE DAY till he can drive a car with a stereo.  ONE MORE DAY till he's free...

(for a little while, at least)

july 16, 2002 - 18:05 - where have you been all of my life?

of course, the first m/c that i have ever really *flipped* for on first sight is a financially way out of my league...

still; one contemplates just how many scooters (and other toys) would have to be liquidated to invite this fine lady to spend some time in my garage.

july 16, 2002 - 07:49 - trinity ain't got nuttin' on me

"he's got the building-up down to a science. but his letting-down needs some work."

social retard: can't even say "happy birthday" without somehow screwing it up; don't know what i do wrong, it just happens.  perhaps the only intelligent thing to do would be to stop bothering her completely.

july 15, 2002 - 19:27 - contratempo catastrophe

on being boring: "if you find the material boring, so will your audience. pick more interesting material."

the mind stutters, as if stumbling over itself with the sudden possibilities posed by recent increases in bandwith.  this site has far outgrown it's original intent, (was there one?).   one thing is clear it's time for a new game.

or, perhaps we shall merely procrastinate till the morrow?

we were never being boring

a no-namer monday in mid-july: the pig percolates with job possibilities; the girl races sweedish steel through rural no. cal; bl simmers in the city, numbed by the false winter of her heart; jf showers, sleeps, waits; rm idles fast cars in slow traffic, plots.

each with our respective dreams; who steps closest?  who finds the key first?  will they share it when they do?

...chiefly because we were never being bored

i wish now, more than anything, the opportunity to interrorgate myself at age 8; my motive?  to inquire, without pretense, what it is that i dream about being / doing when i grow up.

when you put your hands over your ears
you don't hear me.
when you cover your eyes
you don't see me
it's like i've never been here
and you've never known me
- excerpts from fast forward, by lali puna.

not that it matters, really.  somehow, deep inside, i have this sticky, intangible feeling that something *big* is yet to happen.  this feeling, of course, is not new: i've known it for years.  i think the pig and i even spoke of it once, lying on our backs, staring at chace stucco...

sometimes, like now, i like to think of 'it', this feeling, as potential energy, (PE).  modeled thus, it's easy then to draw further discussions on it's reciprocal, kinetic energy.

what is new, is this nagging concern that i somehow missed that path, the destined opportunity, and have ignorantly stumbled on, just wrong.

PE = Force * Distance

of course...  this suggests that the energy finally released will increase the farther i get from the nail, suggesting violent upheavals in one's way of life once release is found.

then again, i hope this analogy is flawed: it has the unpleasant implication that if i do happen to notice the target whilst traveling along our access (time), and immediately release the rubberband, it would go nowhere:

PE = ZERO.  (in fact, would simply hang itself in place).

clearly an unpleasant extrapolation, so i toss away the flawed model and return to basics.  (here, look how quick i wave my hands; thus distracted, you have already overlooked my mistake)

continuing on (or starting over):

PE is energy that is waiting to be converted into power.  Kinetic enrgy, (KE), is the energy of motion.   modeled in perfect state, they carry an intrinsic inverse relationship to each other.

1 (i.e. max) KE => 0 (i.e. no) PE
1 (i.e. max) PE => 0 (i.e. no) KE

by the blather found here, one can confirm very low KE in the life of jack: it is clear that i'm getting nowhere fast, (or somewhere, but very, very slowly).

stated as such, newtonian physics would suggest my PE must be at, or very near to, it's max.

classic models for this equation are easily balanced: the subject kicks the rock off a cliff, values are zeroed.  in the transition, PE is converted to KE, velocity is defined.

velocity...  (quick to cuff, the mind wanders: perhaps a new italian cafe racer would successfully tutor a lost dreamer with the phsyics of his life.)

then again, after building up velocity, the rock did just kind of *stop* at the end of its short flight.  some might consider it sad, lying there in a mini-storm of disturbed dust; i'm willing to bet it wished the cliff was higher!

with increased distance, it could've gone faster and fallen farther; (admittedly a cheap thrill, but don't ask me to explain it, you'd have better luck with the rock)

with renewed vigor, jack fumbles on: if time is our axis for distance, does it not follow that the longer i wait, the faster i'll eventually go, once i *start going*   (returning, of course, to the above point regarding violent upheavals).

yes.  i must have faith in tomorrow, (without it i have nothing).  after all, it is her day.  ;)

(edit: after stepping away and re-reading the above text, it is immediately clear that this entry is completely flawed and should be deleted, in it's entirety.  instead, i leave it here as an example of why it's good that i'm not coding at the moment)

for the above model to work as described, one must assume that Force, (mass * acceleration), remains constant.

although it is likely my mass will continue continue to grow, i believe it's far safer to assume that each deposit into my 401k, each sell-out day spent in cuba, each minute spent wondering 'what if,' represents further (exponential?) deprecation in my acceleration potential.

acceleration potential decreases => force decreases => PE decreases.

that said, i guess i still wouldn't mind that cafe racer...

july 15, 2002 - 09:07 - monday already?

morning's odwalla selection: superfood

sitting in his corner of a pleasantly unilluminated maze, jack blearily rubs his eyes and wonders just where his weekend went...

i have a secret.  i'm wearing the same underwear as yesterday, and nobody will ever know.  in fact, i wear the same pants, the same shirt, the same socks...  (although these are somewhat less inconspicious.)

admittedly, this is pretty gross on a saturday, but it certainly isn't recommended for impressing coworkers or management on a foggy monday morning.  ...throw in some bed head, perhaps even a fuzzy chin for good measure, and they might suspect that you don't really give a damn.

err, ah.  it's not that at all.  -it's just that this ketchup stain, that dirty sleve...  easily identifiable examples of my gross ineptitude to an ignorant observer, this morning are considered souveniers, laden with nostalgia, from a truly bizarre weekend.

a saturday spent drag racing super-vintage (pre 60's) handlebar scooters that crashes into a sunday dodging super-tuned super bikes whilst lackadaisically traipsing through the paddocks: juxtaposition in spades.

one would never suspect that a lovely nap could be had on an island in the sun in the middle of an international sport bike event.  laguna seca: nestled by by turns 2, 3, 4 and surrounded by a pondish lake lies ducati island, and the location of the sweetest afternoon nap i have known in ages.

i'm still amazed how area restrictions fall away with, corporate-loaned credentials swinging from my belt; never thought i'd be dating a ducati bunny, but the perks sure are nice...

until about 5 am this morning, when i realize i'm a bay away from where i need to be today.  too bad jorge, the magic truck, isn't quite as fast i'd like him to be.

too bad i don't do coffee anymore.

july 12, 2002 - 15:39 - reaming with babelfish

this just in: not only is boredom a tasteless and troublesome state, it's A A cung!.

boredom (en) -> noia (it) -> trouble (en)

boredom (en) -> ennui (fr) -> trouble (en)

boredom (en) -> aburrimiento (es) -> boredom (en)

boredom (en) -> Langeweile (de) -> boredom (en)

boredom (en) -> ?? (jp) -> boredom (en)

boredom (en) -> ?? (ch) -> tasteless (en)

boredom (en) -> ??? (ko) -> A A cung (en)

( unfortunate that it's so pervasive today. )

i have gotten a tremendous amount of work done today, yet, i feel like i'm getting nowhere.  i don't believe that this is due to my work, instead, the suddenly faltering sensation of vacation.

maybe i should just take down some of my recently pinned snapshots.  far too effective; they remind me of what it's like to be on the outside, and not in cuba.

maybe i just need some new wheels, i'm feeling trapped.

closing thought: being bored (en) -> alésant (fr) -> reaming (en)

alas, back to the judicious dealing of digital advice.  (amazing that i am paid to give people answers.  note to self: ponder possible implications of this realization in the near future.)

july 12, 2002 - 09:07 - still stares at stars

i still like your french.
 ( how could i forget? )

july 12, 2002 - 08:50 - growing pains

well, looks official; bb has now made the move from the closet to the server farm.  yes, i know, shit's broke.

don't worry, i'm working on it.  ;)

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