"Please be prepared for the possibility of rainfall"
is the most important thing to mention. But, here and now, it's just necessary fine print. Like anything can dampen our spirits now.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Work Break #1
Anticipating no sleep for work is like asking to be distracted, to be taken away--
I am in the middle of an Excel worksheet, work I usually like, work that can usually consume my focus so completely, I forget where and when I am, like I am alone in the world and I don't mind it. I am in the middle of numbers and figures and I realize I am interpreting data that probably no one else has before, and I think to myself--If I write this up into a report perhaps I can submit it for publication, instead of condensing it into a presentation for the purposes of my work. And I think about it: I've done the research, I have the data, if I can analyze these into bullet points, then surely I can stretch it out, can't I? And I can submit it to a journal and should it get published, surely I can add that to my resume?
But this is not what I want to write.
Every hour or so into this work, I take a little break. Maybe light a cigarette, or drink my coffee-gone-cold, or get a glass of water. But always, I open this book I've decided to re-read for the nth time, read a chapter or so. And every time I say to myself, this is how I want to write. This is what I want to sound like when I write. And this tone now, this one I employ--too earnest, pleading, whiney even--this is not that tone.
I remember once I was on vacation in San Joaquin with some friends. We woke up at dawn to go to the beach, where the waves were like stone walls rolling towards the shore. I wanted to go for a swim, but everything that morning was hard: the light was a stone grey like slate, the wind cold, the beach full of rocks. And the barreling waves that despite all that want, that earnestness earned me nothing: I ended up sprawled, wet, defeated on the shore.
I think back to my favorite authors now, characters even, and I realize they are all men, macho men at that. And this is what I want to sound like? I am aghast, but this is true: Stripped of drama, pleading, hurt. Or at least, stripped of the wallowing such that everything becomes fact. This happened because of that. Consequence. A to B in a straight line, and detours may pretty it up a bit, but here. This is where you end up. Start to finish uncomplicated. If I follow this procedure precisely and I can predict the result. Like science.
And look at me now: Whether I took the time to write this, or decided to sleep the rest of the morning before Monday officially starts, or finished the book, the result is the same. I will have to deliver a presentation at 5pm tomorrow. And I will deliver it because I have to, and I know myself well enough that I will. Whether or not I will be proud of my work will obviously vary directly with the amount of time I have spent on it. But that is my story from now until then. A to B, and nowhere else to go.
No, I am not talking about fate, or destiny or karma. And no, this is not making me sad, or angry. This, I realize, is why I've always loved science. That precision and straight-forwardness. The following of rules the order of the day, guiltless. And not having to look for anything else, even escape.
There I was. Now I am here. And my break is over.
I am in the middle of an Excel worksheet, work I usually like, work that can usually consume my focus so completely, I forget where and when I am, like I am alone in the world and I don't mind it. I am in the middle of numbers and figures and I realize I am interpreting data that probably no one else has before, and I think to myself--If I write this up into a report perhaps I can submit it for publication, instead of condensing it into a presentation for the purposes of my work. And I think about it: I've done the research, I have the data, if I can analyze these into bullet points, then surely I can stretch it out, can't I? And I can submit it to a journal and should it get published, surely I can add that to my resume?
But this is not what I want to write.
Every hour or so into this work, I take a little break. Maybe light a cigarette, or drink my coffee-gone-cold, or get a glass of water. But always, I open this book I've decided to re-read for the nth time, read a chapter or so. And every time I say to myself, this is how I want to write. This is what I want to sound like when I write. And this tone now, this one I employ--too earnest, pleading, whiney even--this is not that tone.
I remember once I was on vacation in San Joaquin with some friends. We woke up at dawn to go to the beach, where the waves were like stone walls rolling towards the shore. I wanted to go for a swim, but everything that morning was hard: the light was a stone grey like slate, the wind cold, the beach full of rocks. And the barreling waves that despite all that want, that earnestness earned me nothing: I ended up sprawled, wet, defeated on the shore.
I think back to my favorite authors now, characters even, and I realize they are all men, macho men at that. And this is what I want to sound like? I am aghast, but this is true: Stripped of drama, pleading, hurt. Or at least, stripped of the wallowing such that everything becomes fact. This happened because of that. Consequence. A to B in a straight line, and detours may pretty it up a bit, but here. This is where you end up. Start to finish uncomplicated. If I follow this procedure precisely and I can predict the result. Like science.
And look at me now: Whether I took the time to write this, or decided to sleep the rest of the morning before Monday officially starts, or finished the book, the result is the same. I will have to deliver a presentation at 5pm tomorrow. And I will deliver it because I have to, and I know myself well enough that I will. Whether or not I will be proud of my work will obviously vary directly with the amount of time I have spent on it. But that is my story from now until then. A to B, and nowhere else to go.
No, I am not talking about fate, or destiny or karma. And no, this is not making me sad, or angry. This, I realize, is why I've always loved science. That precision and straight-forwardness. The following of rules the order of the day, guiltless. And not having to look for anything else, even escape.
There I was. Now I am here. And my break is over.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
i heart nonoy.
Ha! I'm not supposed to have time for this, given a presentation due tomorrow which I have yet to start--but, let me just repeat this: I love Nonoy Baclao.
And that block on meierhoffer at the end of the fourth, with ra-ra-rasputin ending up on the floor and Nonoy stepping over to growl over him... Yaaah. Help me, I'm melting.
Anyway. Here's a proposition: Nonoy, can I be your girlfriend for two weeks? I swear two weeks is all I'm asking for. Kahit post-season pa. My sister blocked this proposal with a mocking "He has a girlfirend, no?" but I'm like, so? Given for example, you've been together two years, what's two weeks? 14 out of 365, two out of 52, 1/2 out of 12. Surely this is not too much to ask?
You don't even have to introduce me to anyone, let alone your friends, or parents.
But of course, I'm being silly. And untruthful.
Fact is we plan to have a huge banner at game two: Pakasli ko, Noy!
If ever I've said anything remotely sarcastic in the past about proposals over the big screen during basketball games, I take it all back now.
And that block on meierhoffer at the end of the fourth, with ra-ra-rasputin ending up on the floor and Nonoy stepping over to growl over him... Yaaah. Help me, I'm melting.
Anyway. Here's a proposition: Nonoy, can I be your girlfriend for two weeks? I swear two weeks is all I'm asking for. Kahit post-season pa. My sister blocked this proposal with a mocking "He has a girlfirend, no?" but I'm like, so? Given for example, you've been together two years, what's two weeks? 14 out of 365, two out of 52, 1/2 out of 12. Surely this is not too much to ask?
You don't even have to introduce me to anyone, let alone your friends, or parents.
But of course, I'm being silly. And untruthful.
Fact is we plan to have a huge banner at game two: Pakasli ko, Noy!
If ever I've said anything remotely sarcastic in the past about proposals over the big screen during basketball games, I take it all back now.
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