夜鹰

So I'm prolly brewing beer next week, likely Tuesday or Wednesday eve. Woo.

I'm aiming to make a batch for H-party out in dryden... though since we have the facilities, i may just make a 10 gallon batch and have half for the s'ville area. Might be smart since I can keg that, stick in my buddy's kegerator, and then bottle the other half.

Anyhow... if anyone wants to hang/take part/enjoy me looking at timers and ranting and raving about the time it takes water to boil... let me know and i'll send you a note to come hang.

So... tonight i went to meet and greet. it was marvelously restorative considering the emotional crap fan hitting going on of late (though there are many of you who have made me crack smiles in the meanwhile, and i love you).

Here is the skinny...

I had a moment while talking to Rob Daman this evening...
He asked how i was doing and i shrugged and he was all "what???"

my reply: "i have not been raising nearly enough hell lately."

And you know what... this is true.

my response to this... where did i go? what rock am i hiding under?

I will argue, dear readers, that I have been FAR too back seat over the last few years. I've been cowing to the critiques of old voices in my head (some of whom are actual people who are not me, and some of whom are just the embodiment of people in my head... if that makes sense).... and they tend to say things like "be happy with what you get."

You may think... with the scul stuff, and the art stuff, and the factory seconds shenanigans... the beeradvocacy, the grad school, and the firefly antics that i have arrived... but i tell you, i am slacking.

You know what? My response to Rob was absolutely accurate. I have not been raising nearly enough hell. This can be said of the last 5 years. Something happened back in 2003/4 where I got lost, and I'm finally aggravated and awake enough to demand more of myself and the world.

I have not been raising nearly enough hell lately... and that is going to change. This goes for all the rest of you too... bring on that fun and joy. What happened to being stupid, and jumping in puddles, and hugs, and running off to the middle of nowhere and just trying to get home? Why don't I know who serves the best root beer float in the boston metro area??? This is TRAGIC.

Also... good sichuan foods can be had in Central Sq.... this makes me happy (yay seph and jess for the hanging with the me and feeling less ridiculous about life).

Good company abounds, and since when did i stop hanging out with people one on one? I know some folks i fraternize with find it intimidating.... well fuck that. For the uninitiated... i might be intimidating if you are afraid of a conversation... of playing with ideas. You know what? Come to my dinners, come to my parties, but you are no longer my priority. The masses are nice, attendance is nice, but i am re-keying my life to quality rather than quantity.

It's not like I have no clue what I want... it's that most people won't put out. That's fine... because I actually know a lot of fucking people... and many of them are awesome. There are more awesome people out there too...

I am rededicated, in a really exciting kind of way, to *living* fun. I have a dearth of wicked grins in my life, and i plan to remedy that starting now.

alright... time to write about something good to remind myself while my allergies are bugging the shit out of me.

* cold brewed coffee RULES! thank me for remembering to make it. *love*
* I fucked up making rice a roni last night.... but instead made rice a rissoto.... what? turbo win.

Guess who's running into a wall of "oh crap why isn't my shit packed up???!???"

I hate being a brinksman... i hate feeling like the whole situation is slipping away from me... or rather that i've let it get away from me.

I have a lot of work to do this week... but if I think it through organizationally, and have enough whiskey, i should be able to conquer:

* MONDAY: Pick up clothes and stuffing that got strewn across the studio... try to get to 70% packed in there. (stupid dog making my work harder).  Start massive paper dump pile to be ready for recycling on Wed. (Ask NP to pack up DVDs in the closet, and clear his stuff away from under the coffee table)

* TUESDAY: Finish up the studio.  Dismantle the desk and storage shelf.  Put tacked art in portfolio, bring portfolio down to start packing up the wall hangings... TAKE THE NAILS.  Finish off packing clothes/shoes, put aside a small pile in little suitcase to live out of.

* WEDNESDAY: Finish off my bedroom... crap that's not books off all shelves.  Try to make dining room a way-station for things that can go (get studio crap downstairs). This is stuff I could bring over Saturday. Make up boxes/crates for kitchen stuff... get 2 bottom cabinets and maybe one of the shelves cleared out.  Add to impending wall of boxes of doom in the dining room.

*THURSDAY: more common space packing/cleaning. Get the bathroom scrubbed up.  Box or toss.  erase walls. More kitchen boxing.  Get headway on comics library.  Assess what's left and plan out Friday/Saturday/Sunday/Monday plan of attack.

*FRIDAY: fret.  maybe get more boxes/containers/help. 

*SATURDAY: *maybe* go to grover's... maybe. definitely get file cabinets and some boxes into the basement of new place.

*SUNDAY: finish kitchen aside from crap to eat off for a couple days.

*MONDAY: since stuff should be *done*... at this point i can clean down the house.... sweep, dust, scrub, etc.  Pass out/cry/continue drinking into stupor.

*TUESDAY: moving day.  blow out arms... cry.. throw a fit... christen new place in a beer induced stupor, and toast my own get-it-done-ness on the new porch.

so if you don't read the stuff i write over on my site (haptotrope  made an lj feed ehawks_rafters), then you missed out on me sharing some of where i come from today.

i have spent my day listening to music i grew up with, and jammed with my dad with.  to me, this was the essence of christmas (which we often spent in puerto rico), and the essense of fun leisure time on sundays, or road trips where it was me and my dad...

getting back to some semblance of my roots

feeling a really strong need for more music in my life.

i've been a raging asshole today! congrats to me!

i *hate* fucking up.

sometimes being productive needs to be metered out with being considerate.

got up at 6, did some studying, then i took a shower at 7:30. Woo.

I combed out my hair.
This is an "in the shower" or at least "under running water" thing. It's sad. It's the most wasteful thing I do in my life in terms of water resources, but I'm too um... vain to get rid of of cut my hair. I hated my hair short. I *could* trim it to um... my natural hair... I think i still have 6" or so of "relaxed" hair.

Anyhow... even more amazing, I figured I'd clean out the drain when I got done. Haven't done it in a long time, and yeah.

I know this is gross.... but why the heck am I not bald? Seriously? It was amazing. Were those animals, I pulled about 2 rats weight out of there in mats of my hair. Granted, they were coated in conditioner which adds plenty weight, but really? I'm surprised the drain's been working.

Housemate's brilliant suggestion of the day: save up my hair and make a damn sweater. It's too coarse and I'd have to mix it with other fibers... but I think I'd be gunning for "I made art that surpasses my own level of hygenic comfort."

I might even manage to beat out Schmear's "toenail-clipping-barbed-wire-tree" that he gave Morgan when I was at Hampshire. I remember how happy she was and how "Uh.... i don't think that's sweet" I was.

i dreamt a good portion of today last night... and things got added to my "shit to do" list in my dream because people needed more information about stuff etc.

now i'm really confused about what is and isn't real, and what i should be working on? very surreal.

it's not like i'm losing my mind? just nothing was whacky enough for me to be "oh look, melting eyeballs. this is definitely a dream." it was more like "hey, thanks for that email but i need more information about x, y, and z." except now i can't find that information and it wasn't real.

the one night i get 6 hours sleep my brain totally decides to fuck with me. rather hilarious. i spent most of this morning checking that i DID send out notes that i thought i did last night... so pardon the probably next 6 hours of paranoia.

AND i have to think up a response to a request for a commissioned illustration piece.

technically i have one other waiting commission, but i'm going to get that one done in the next month or so... that was from ages ago, and actually requested by a friend who was obliterated, so i bet it'll be a surprise when i give it to him.

but this one is for real and i should try to sound um... competent or something.

I feel like i'm standing on the very edge of being overwhelmed.

Nothing's bad or terrible or anything. It's all good, though confusing... it's just a lot. I'm getting scared of forgetting things. I don't normally sleep much, so losing sleep doesn't normally seem like a big deal... but i'm actually getting too exhausted to get things done AND not sleeping. I crawl into bed when my eyes can't stay open anymore, and the gears in my head just keep spinning.

my to do list includes:
* brewmaster tasks
* camp manager tasks
* final exam
* transcribing a song and transposing for various instruments (i'm done with the hard part, now i'm just fighting with the computer)
* coming up with a mockup for some large art pieces (i've got roughs done for 3)
* making an estimate for a (potential) commission
* finishing up a big project at work
* getting new t-shirts for volleyball (and boy am i out of practice on that game)
* prepping for a show we're playing May 30 at the Zine library

on the other hand, i've been singing around the house... which is nice. i miss singing. i haven't felt... um... comfortable enough to do it for a while? Not that i don't feel at home in my house... we're just stylistically all on such separate pages that i feel reserved about audibly setting the tone for the common space. i haven't even been singing on my way home or anything. Don't know why i feel so self-censored.

i also want to clean my rooms, but it's just not in the cards.

Does anyone know about sheet music floating around for Loli Phabay? I don't think band can do anything with it without sounding like a dirge, but i might like to tackle a concertina singing thing, and i'm about maxed out on transcribing trying to do 4 part pieces... so i'd like to be lazy and request some help.

i had a good if tiring weekend. i was supposed to go to a beer thing today after work... instead i want to kick people in the nads, rip their faces of and laugh while screaming maniacally and wearing their intestines as a fucking boa.

So um... i feel stupid for not noticing this before, but in catching up on last night's Daily Show I noticed Earl Blumenauer talking about monkey legislation.



Yes, I said monkey legislation... apparently interstate monkey transport is a thing of the past. I know some folks in research who are going to want to slit their wrists over having to do more paperwork.



Anyhow, what caught my eye was the insanely bright bicycle pin that Blumenauer had on, so I did a little digging, and apparently the representative from Oregon is a big cycling pusher, and the pin is a way of promoting the Congressional Bike Caucus. Many MA reps are in the membership, which is pretty neat.

((i wrote this ages ago, and for some reason i messed up posting it... so months later, here you go))

I just rolled my eyes really hard after reading an email, and I feel bad about it.

So Gore is coming to speak at Harvard at the launch of the greenhouse gas reduction program on October 22. I should be excited, right? I mean, this is the kind of stuff I want to work on, and a big name place making an effort is something, right?

But I'm feeling underwhelmed and overcome with a sense of "we are just slapping more celebrity status on something since we actually don't lead compared to other (poorer) universities in the area, we're just old and rich and famous."

Example... there was a TON of press over having a zero impact beginning of fall party yesterday here... except that the pats of butter were on non-recyclable and non-compostable material (aluminum paper stuff from Cabot). Now... there was only recycling bins and compost bins because it was a "zero waste" event. This means butter wrappers were going in a container in which they had no use, and causes sorting work. Caterers kept taking my plates from me when i wanted to reuse them, and when i argued I kept getting "no worries, they're compostable." When I got a beer, it was in a cup which is compostable. That's nice... i was hoping not to need a cup at all, but I can see the reluctance in having glass bottles all over the place since I have worked events before. Still, there's no need to roll your eyes or look at me frustrated when i want to reuse that cup for a second beer. Just because it's compostable doesn't mean i should use things wastefully.

I can't help feeling like this is the intrinsic nature of sustainability measures here, so it's "better" than it was, but we shouldn't be patting each other on the back for being good.

i'm a little wasted and tired. i wish i was a little more wasted and tired because then i wouldn't be feeling so much.

bleh.

My nose doesn't work too good and tonight mulch smells like puke. Bleh ehawk

*grumble*

sometimes the first reaction i have to a question is "um... that information is completely easily accessible, but here's what you want to know."

in my head?

in my head I'm pantomiming *STABSTABSTABSTABSTAB*

If anyone knows of any opportunities to let me throw breakable things off a tall building, even if tall is 3 floors, let me know. It'll be the cathartic event of a lifetime and make me real happy.

ok... let's see... funeral is tomorrow, and i'm just hanging on to some semblance of ok. i am actually not disturbed by the death, it's the living people i have to contend with that have my palms sweaty and make me want to get all stabby and run away.

i had a good lone ride last night, hung out by the river for a good long while, even rode by Evil Twin on the way home. I went home, showed the kitty some affection, then went to bed, and managed to sleep like a baby. Got up, combed out the hair (success!), then got out the door to go to work. I pulled Rauchbier out of the basement and launched only to find that i didn't quite remember how to ride a bicycle. If you know the hill I live on, you will know this is a really shitty realization AFTER taking off. I don't know if i was sitting wrong or what, but I couldn't figure out anything. I smacked into 2 curbs real hard, darted onto the sidewalk and between parked cars, nearly lost my front wheel, and smacked a car pretty good (just with me, not the bike... so no damage). About 1/3 of the way down the hill I had it figured out and was riding like an normal person.

Then I got coffee/breakfast, and managed to not be able to ride, keep my skirt tucked in, and carry coffee at the same time. I spilled crap all over myself repeatedly, and the coffee hand was really wet, so steering with that hand was... idiotic. I arrived at work pretty surprised to have made it with no new bruises or scrapes.

I hate feelings and the occasional lack thereof. ehawk

Earlier this week my buddy Aaron put me into hysterics when he responded to my status message...

eHawk: i have no brain
aaron: brains are outdated anyway
aaron: can't cope with all the info
aaron: just ask Duran Duran! "too much information"... they called it like 13 years ago.
eHawk: hahahahaha! you rule
aaron: true, but the kingdom I govern is totally wacko.