Yesterday I took my lunch

Yesterday I took my lunch in the conference room, and taught a coworker to juggle. (Another one bites the dust–she’s leaving in a week or two.) Those who have paid attention know that I work in a pretty office-oriented cultureless-pit. We were fairly successful at sneaking away, and nobody interrupted us but a couple people who already know what was going on. She learned quick, and last night I called up a friend who works at air traffic, and got her some juggling balls. I don’t know why I’m telling this story here, other than to show my bountiful generosity…

People at work have started making fun of me for having so much food on my desk. It used to be candy, but now it’s food. It probably doesn’t help that I usually leave my lunch on my desk after getting it from the fridge (if I remember to put it in the fridge in the first place). Edible items on my desk right now (which do not include lunch):
• Panda Black Licorice
• Honey Wheat Wheatables
• Cheez-its (the big box was on sale!)
• Sun-sweet Tropical Mix (dried fruit)

Notice: The licorice is the only candy! I’m trying to cut back. I’ve also gone vegetarian. I don’t remember if I’ve mentioned that here already.

Today’s victory shag was not especially interesting. Reminiscing about a failed relationship in the form of a letter. I can’t help but think that if I’d written an email like that to an x (and actually, I’ve written plenty), I’d immediately feel like a big sucker, and if I hadn’t sent it right away, I probably wouldn’t.

It’s easy to understand how he feels though. I feel that way every time I read through old emails of past relationships, which I like to do with a frequency I’d rather not admit to.

This is bizarre–I feel I

This is bizarre–I feel I have stumbled upon something big, or rather something mysterious. Mystery always makes things seem bigger than they really are. This is akin, actually, to when I discovered the websites created for the release of the movie AI. They were elaborate, and large… and mysterious.

Basically, I have discovered my first blog that is not a blog: It’s a mailing list really. You have to sign up for it, but then you get a couple of back issues (mine were not particularly striking–but in hindsight, did give some background information) and then the daily email. I guess they are often love letters. But this one was a bizarre description of a strange proposition four women had made to the author of this blog that is not a blog. The four women all want to sleep-with/date the author. How crazy is that? How does a man (Dobbs, if you would believe the “From” in his headers) create such desire? I guess I’ll find out…

Somewhere in the process, (it may be on his website, I can’t remember,) the author claims that there are hundreds of people signed up for this thing, and that only 12 have unsubscribed.. ever. I am obviously intrigued, or I wouldn’t be writing all this. I don’t think I would be as curious if the letters/emails were presented by themselves, but to make things a bit more interesting (interactive!) the author appends a link to the end of each email.. back to his site for corroborating evidence. Today’s batch of links contained which I have even seen before, and enjoyed, (as I recall), and who is part of the plot in some way.

Question for further thought: How are blogs like real-tv? And are they appealing in the same way?

on ICQ this morning, after

on ICQ this morning, after a friendy insult to one of my neighborhood everquest addicts:

eq_addict – fucker
eq_addict – i will cut you
databl1p – you are SO intimidating.
databl1p – bring it!
eq_addict – bitch, you don’t want me to get out my Sebilite Croaking Dirk (10/18, +4ac +4str +4sv poison +4sv disease, +4sv magic)!
databl1p – jesus man! no, I was only kidding. You know I never would have insulted someone with one of those!
eq_addict – that’s right
databl1p – oh wait, look what I’ve got here, a Yosemite Sam Scimitar (20/20, +5ip, +8ssh +9dvd +15polution +25penis-size)!!!
databl1p – I think it’s time to say once again.. bring it!
eq_addict – *yawn* without a good haste item, i’d easily outdamage you. you can’t even dual wield, mofo!
databl1p – *HASTE* (I’ve got a powerup now mother-fucker!)
eq_addict – the haste power-up is just movement speed, not attack speed
eq_addict – haha n00b u r so pwnd, la~
databl1p – Ahh, but what you don’t know, is that I am not left handed!
eq_addict – databl1p writhes in a grip of agony!
eq_addict – You have slain databl1p!
databl1p – I guess your schwartz was bigger than mine.
eq_addict – no, i just have Deathtouch on a 72 minute timer
databl1p – is that an egg-timer, or one of those old alarm clocks with the bells on top?

I was talking with someone

I was talking with someone the other day (Neil, from unicycling) about these bicycles he saw with roll bars that go from in front of the front wheel to behind the back wheel of the bicycle, allowing the rider to stop, and roll forward–essentially doing a somersault with their bicycle. I think that would be awesome to try (once I got over the initial fear). I was looking for some info online about this, but I haven’t found anything yet. (surfing for bicycle links is crazy. there’s SO much stuff out there.)

On a semi-related note, I saw this link over at Yami’s blog which has become quite the happening place in the last few days, I might add. I shoulda got in on this whole “guest blogger” thing, but then I might not have found all these great deals on ebay this last weekend, so maybe that’s ok.

I was thinking last night–just

I was thinking last night–just before bed, as I was too lazy to write it down–about the act of creating art. I’m using the broadest definition of art possible here, whether it’s poetry, photography, ceramics, dance, music, juggling… The differences between them all are negligible for this thought process. Basically all arts are skills. You get better at them the more you do. Yet there is a definite point when the artist first begins to practice the skill, where they possess what might appear to be a heightened level of creativity due to their inexperience in the field. In fact, many artists spend their entire careers trying to re-create that initial playfulness or creativity.

So then there are two factors that make a good artist–I would argue–“skill” or the practice of the art, and “creativity” or uniqueness of the art. A very skilled artist is almost always easy to admire, (depending on the art, I suppose, since high skill in some fields is imperceptible to the outside observer) but for most arts, someone who is talented is easy to spot. Yet this alone doesn’t make them a master in their field. Examples of this are everywhere, from that really good cover band, to the painter who cranks out portrait after picture-perfect-portrait of nature scenes–and not good ones. I think you probably know what I’m talking about.

I think most fields talk about these ideas in their own semantics. And I’m not pretending to be an expert on any of this stuff. Last night I was just asking myself what I didn’t like about this recent performance by one of my favorite jugglers (who is also a good friend of mine), and I realized that in this piece–and a few others I’ve seen–creativity is carrying the bulk of the load, and there was really no skill involved. (And believe me, there is plenty to tap!)

As an artist myself, in my poetry, I often leave out the skill portion of what I’m doing as an exercise. In fact, I was going to say I don’t generally share the results of this labor, but then I realized that right there in my right hand navigation is probably the most frequent example of this–my mindblurbs. Thoughts without reason. Poetry without skill. A creative exercise I try to do at least once a day (and end up doing three times a week or so). But there they are, for everyone to see. I’m a hypocrite again, and I was feeling so smug, so superior. I was thinking to myself, he should never have performed that piece in public. Maybe it was necessary for his creative growth, but he should never have performed it. And if performance is to juggling as publishing is to poetry, I’m just as guilty if not more so. Where are my good poems? Where are my works of skill and creativity? Obviously not here.

I’m going to go hang my head in shame now. (or go to the bookstore, ’cause that’s what I planned to do this afternoon anyway.)

Things are still fucked up

Things are still fucked up here at work, and there is no development environment. I don’t want to work on a live site, at least not without some kind of safeguard… I really should be doing the work I have to do offline, and then just upload, but DNS is hosed on that particular site anyway, so they won’t even know things are fixed. (and I have to do _every_ page, so it’s going to be tedious to say the least–maybe I’m just procrastinating.)

I’ve stumbled onto some really not-so-interesting blogs today. I also discovered The Sex Project which I may contribute to… but nobody really wants to see erotic male photos… (except other guys, but that’s another story.) I’m not sure what the the reason for this is, I mean, it’s a gross generalization, but I think there is some truth to the idea that men are far more visually stimulated or stimulatable than women are.

I think maybe I’ll add links to other blogs on my site… I haven’t consciously decided not to do so, I’m just not sure what the best method would be. This whole blogspot thing leaves me feeling a bit too not-in-control.. if that makes any sense. I think it’s the templating system that’s offputting, and I wonder how the templates work for Movable Type.