Thursday, February 17

Why I talk about heavy shit with strangers

 Because more often than not, they have the exact same shit as I do. Ok fine, maybe different colors, like variations on a theme, but essentially, it's the same.

I learned this when I had infertility - jeez the number of women on my floor of the office alone. 

So then I became the brave one, and it became kind of my style to say things aloud that other people were thinking, but were too scared to own openly.

I always thought social judgement didn't matter to me but there I was chasing the hero image. If you are the hero, they can't do without you. And now I notice in myself the tendency to insert myself into conversations just to point out similarities between myself and the others. Especially with my friends. Or to just speak. Basically, to contribute, but only out of anxiety of being left out. Being odd. Not being the hero. I want to control the conversation. As I said to Josh the other day, I come at things from an, "All of you, listen to me and do what I say." 

I've, for better or worse, become better at it, not by accident. I try. Very hard. I'm a try-hard but the thing is nobody calls you that if you also succeed. Then they just call you a success, thereby missing the point. Except S of course, but that is why I followed him to his hovel, and then married the shit out of him.

Name it, so you can shame it. I suppose there's nothing wrong with wanting the world to run like you want it to, it's just foolish. And yet, to a degree, possible. That's the allure of it. Unpredictable reward. It's like a freaking bug in our software these days. There was no limiter to our ambitions. And yet, ambition gets you things you want. Our ability to see externalities withers and dies for lack of feeding, and I think we need to bring that back. 

I keep thinking about the tail of the dragon. That's what K described it as. Don't worry, the tide is rising, she said, it'll happen with or without you. It's true. But it matters to this starfish. Why can't I be the one to make at least some of the rules?

There are organisms on this planet that take thousands of years just to reproduce once. Bacteria living deep inside the earth. I don't know why that's relevant, but they don't care what we do, and for some reason, we care what they do. We find it worth studying and writing down. Why? At some point you run out of reasons, and it comes down to the eternal dance between order and chaos. But more proximately, this is our planet. Our home.

Somewhere in the last two hundred years, it went from the world to our world. Whose? You know, ours. Humanity's. Uh huh. And now, thankfully it is shifting to a co-ownership model, with all other life. But we, just by virtue of power, have acquired an unexpected responsibility. We can, and have, changed the future of this planet and everything on it. Our actions suddenly affect the whole village, except the village is every other being on Earth.

One thing I have never understood though, is why we think climate change is going to be so bad. What if it becomes nice and warm everywhere and the animals find out how to survive. I suppose it's that oh shit moment when you realize you're messing with something far bigger than you can understand. The, "I should NOT have done that" moment.

So what I'm saying is, even knowing all of this, I still like to try to make the world better in the ways I think it should be. You can happen to it, or it can happen to you, or how about you both just roll with it. But all things considered, I like to happen to other things. It's in my blood, in my bones. I am a teller of stories. I am a keeper of keys and grounds. I am the sentinel. The catalyst. The free electron. I am the life of the party. I am whatever it takes to get shit done.

I rest and sleep, yes, and play. But when I do, this is what I do. 

Sunday, February 6

Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?

Major milestones, 2010 - 2022

  • Divorced el capitan, reconciled with Green and married an unsuitable boy who turned out to be Aladdin
  • I ride motorcycles now
  • Quit a job that paid more than half a million a year to do social work because my health couldn't take one more fucking second of capitalism
  • Four dogs in my house and I LOVE it. Their little FACES!
  • Finally moved out of the damn bay area to somewhere with clean air
  • Weigh more than 150 lbs and have blue hair
  • Oh yeah, nervous breakdown, how could I forget.
  • I think there was a pandemic
  • Actually friends with Mom and Dad again
  • FSD
  • Still friends with Octopus, who is pretty much the same as ever, perhaps plus-minus 50lb?
  • Am a fucking steely-eyed war machine when times demand it
  • Survived hours of level 9 pain

Not all, but many

 It's been almost fourteen years since my last post. A mind boggling length of time - I don't even know if I counted that right. Who could have ever predicted the internet would last this long?

There is a temptation to be wistful, there is a temptation to copy the old style. Mostly, though, there is relief. I am still here. I was here all along.

I've also done a fair few of the things on my old list.


Sunday, January 31

And now it's morning. Again.

Augh! I couldn't sleep last night! The house was too empty. But instead of staying up and watching silly Tom Hanks movies like I planned to, I wasted time on the internet looking for pretty photos for my new webstie (coming soon).

almost insignificant

You know, in the process of writing out little descriptions of all the work I did over the last year and a half, it occurs to me that I haven't wasted my time after all.

I did quite a lot of well-intentioned work. Success or failure, especially in first-year graduate student research projects, is just a minor detail.

Manifestos. Sometimes you need them, but mostly, you don't.

My new official UC Berkeley website is under construction. Helvetica is such a pretty font, no wonder they made a whole documentary about it.

But anyway, one of my newest projects this year concerns the "digital humanities", which is all very exciting for those of us on the engineering side of things, i.e. those of us who make a living doing stuff. For those on the other side, the humanities folks, it seems to mainly consist of writing long articles, manifestos, and asking searching-sounding questions like "what do we need to do to bring the humanities into the 21st century"?

There's definitely a time and a place for manifestos, guys, but what you really need to do here is hire a bunch of computer scientists and UI designers and let them get to work. Enough with the committes and articles defining what the digital humanities are. There's work to be done, let's do it! End of story.

Tuesday, August 25

OMG advisor

So after a year, one whole year, of being terrified that I wasn't good enough to be in grad school I found myself an advisor just like everybody else. Whew.

I don't think this is the last we'll see of impostor syndrome, but I think I can be less stressed about the future, at the very least.

Also I am extra thrilled, because it's rare to find a PhD advisor with a sense of fashion better than yours.

Friday, May 29

It seems like a lot, but it's what I want

Things to do before I die:

1. Write a book that lots of people read and like.
2. Win some sort award for doing/inventing something that advanced a field in some way.
3. Have two children
4. Create something and have people use it
5. Learn about art
6. Live in Europe for some time
7. Learn German, French, Italian (or all three)
8. Make every dessert I’ve ever heard of
9. Create a foundation to advance something I care about
10. Become an expert on a country, a culture, a language, a phenomenon, a field… something useful and exciting.
11. See every enormous open space in the world.

Thursday, March 26

it's real!

Tumbleweed! It's real! We saw it!Just rolling across the mojave desert, everywhere, all over the place!

I don't know why I'm so excited about this, perhaps it's because I couldn't think of a more perfect symbol of large, deserted spaces if I tried, and then I find out it's actually real, and not just in the Simpsons.

Oh, what a shocking lack of knowledge of American flora. Sorry, I didn't grow up here, and when was the last time anyone saw tumbleweed in California or in Massachusetts anyway?

Awfulsome!

A longish time ago, when I was very small, I ruined the #19 tooth in the back of my mouth by not brushing it or something (I don't remember, I was very small).

I had to have a root canal, which is pretty awful in itself, but the story doesn't end there. Turns out, this tooth keeps getting infected. Don't know why, but when I'm stressed it gets worse, and when I'm happy, it subsides. Lately, I've been pretty busy. As a result, this:
That great big dark spot you see there was +infection -bone. The bacteria actually ate up the bone. Those were some hardcore bacteria. Oh well.

Everything is ok now, and I'm getting it fixed and re-filled and everything, but for a while there I was carrying around bone-eating bacteria in a hole in my jaw. I still can't decide whether that's awful or awesome.