jeremyrandall / blog /

I pulled out the sewing machine the other day and stitched up a tear on the inside of the duvet cover.

I hate to admit it but I haven’t had the sewing machine out of the box for a couple years.

I bought it more than three years ago because I feel like every household should have a sewing machine. And they’re, like, the coolest thing ever invented. I don’t quite understand how the thread in the bobbin intertwines with the thread in the needle to do its magic. I’ve taken it apart and looked at the diagrams, but I’m still rather amazed to see the stitches that come out. Everything is so perfect, so rhythmic, so well spaced; the machine hums out it’s steady song as the needle hops back and forth and the threads get tied, mysteriously, together.

I’m not particularly good at sewing. I got a job at a sail loft once and did my best to stitch together huge pieces of white Dacron that would be used to harness the power of the wind and pull boats through the water. I messed up a lot and the owners were nice to me and didn’t tell me how bad it was. I’d take apart my errant stitches with a seam-ripper and do them again. It hurt a lot when I’d jab the seam ripper into my thumb.

They never told me, but I could tell when I’d come in the next morning that they had re-sewn some of my sails. It was a lot of work for them to take apart a long stitch then run the whole thing through the machine again. They were kind and didn’t criticize me as I made little improvement.

Those machines were big and industrial and powerful and scary. Picture a farm tractor with a big needle on the end. I had trouble keeping things from going out of control when they got up to full speed. I did manage to put together one sail pretty well and I actually saw the boat sailing out of the harbor under the power of the sail I had just made.

My machine is a basic model. It’s white and has a light, a reverse lever, a foot pedal. It can sew through lots of fabrics; it can sew denim. I think it can sew leather if it’s not too thick. It does straight stitches and zig zags and button holes and a bunch of other things selected with dials.

I figured when I bought it that there’s so much fabric around a typical home, surely I could use my machine to make practical things like cushions and pillows and maybe even curtains. The curtains wouldn’t have to be too fancy, after all.

I have a plastic bin with some fabric scraps. I have a pincushion, pins and some kind of chalk pencil to mark the fabric. I made a cushion. Some bags. Some simple repairs of torn fabric items. But I have to admit I just haven’t done much more than that. I found myself intrigued the other day to see my machine running like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I quit the job at the sail loft job after a few weeks. I just didn’t think I was good enough and I was afraid to see if I could get better. I tended to give up back then. If I had stayed there I would probably be really good at sewing now. At running my little machine and at running those big monsters with all that horsepower and the huge spools of thick white thread piercing giant swaths of heavy fabric.

I’m pretty pleased to have the rip inside the duvet cover fixed. The sewing machine is still out of its box, back to its place of honor on my shelf. I may see if I can piece together another simple bag or pillow soon. I like that I’m picking it up again, knowing that I can learn whatever I want, I just have to sit down and do it. Make the effort. Read the manual. Have some patience. The bobbin is wound, the needle is threaded and the sewing machine is still, like, the coolest invention ever.

I love hardware stores. I find it kind of amazing that they have so many fun, interesting, cool and unexpected items; that I can buy a single bolt or enough wiring and pipes to do up an entire house. There are three hardware stores near my apartment — four if you count the one that is on the next hill over. I like going to them and looking for project ideas. Sometimes it’s just hooks or picture hangers, sometimes it’s shelves or organizers, sometimes it’s a new idea for lighting or electrical projects and sometimes it’s coming up with a creative way to make toys and inventions out of common household items. I really like coming up with ways to store and organize things, clean, decorate, try new lighting or just manage the recycling and trash better. I like to do things that enhance my apartment without adding clutter, of course.

Last week I went to the hardware store and found a bunch of fastening gear for a home project I was finishing up. It usually takes me a couple trips since I tend to figure some of it as I go. That’s why the hardware store two blocks from my place is a good starting point. Of course it’s certainly no burden to walk another five or seven blocks to see if I can find the right items at one of the other two nearby stores (the fourth hardware store is eleven or twelve blocks away, which is still along a regular walking route, but doesn’t have the same “in my neighborhood” feel).

There are coffee shops and restaurants, a movie theater that plays indie flicks and a Good Vibes near my house and my hardware stores. Plus an odd grocery store that has fancy individual cakes (which I get once in a blue moon for a treat to share). Almost all of them are local businesses, not chains. I love my neighborhood.

This morning we went to the hardware stores and found hooks and tape, light bulb sensor switches, chains and ropes and odds and ends to finish up the projects we started from the bag of items we bought a couple weeks ago. Rubber dipping proved to be an interesting way to add a handle to an existing item. Arts and crafts day for grownups, with a nap thrown in for good measure. It was a gorgeous sunny day, just like yesterday when we walked along the Wharf and rode the cable car back up the hill. I never rode the cable cars before I started living near them with a monthly Muni pass; they get the tourists to pay five dollars one-way, no transfers.

I love August in the Bay Area. The weather is great, there’s lots to do and the sun comes up early and goes down late. It’s my favorite month.

We took the ferry out Angel Island a couple weeks ago to go hiking. I had done the perimeter road in the past, but this was the first time I had climbed to the top. I’m usually an urban hiker, but there are trees and dirt trails just a boat ride away. We plowed up the hill like billy goats; the view was gorgeous at the top. We sat and ate our energy bars and drank our protein drinks, then headed down the other side and back to the ferry boat. Walker, hiker, urban foot-transit enthusiast. I chuckle when I see the Segway groups near Aquatic Park; do we really need vehicles that mimic walking?

It’s slowing down here. The crowds at the Wharf and Union Square are thinning out. I guess the kids are back in school or something. September and October are greats months here too, especially for the locals. I’m done with today’s chores, cleaning my apartment, screwing in hooks, taking things out and adding things in. Until the next hike to the hardware stores, of course.

Social networking

I like Facebook. I like the clean interface. I like the way you can post snarky little status updates. I like that all of my friends are showing up there, and I can read their snarky little status updates. I’m amused that some people never change; sometimes I find that disappointing too. I even kind of like all the weird applications and add-ons. They’re generally silly, but being able to spend a few seconds sending someone a virtual gift or hug, a comment or a link makes keeping in touch both amazingly easy and remarkably effective. It kind of goes in waves for me. Someone may see my status update and that causes them to send a message. We go back an forth a couple lines at a time, and feel re-connected, caught up. I’ve had old co-workers, friends from organizations, friends from high school and even friends from junior high and elementary school get back in touch.

“Jeremy is feeling enamored with a major social networking site.”

Changing attitudes about finite resources

I get the impression that people — regular people — are genuinely changing their attitudes about energy, gas, oil, finite resources. Around the blogosphere people are writing about different fuels, new energy technologies, wanting governments to seek alternatives to oil. People seem to be accepting that it costs actual money to drive a large vehicle down the road, that maybe that’s not the best thing to be doing, and that there are other options that make more sense environmentally and economically.

Walkable cities are healthy cities

I read in the newspaper today that San Francisco has been rated the most walkable city in the United States. Yes, even with the hills. Maybe especially with the hills. I was walking up the hill to my apartment the other day and, as I got to the top, I remembered how hard that hill was the first time I went to see the apartment, and noted how easy it is now. I’m a Billy Goat.

Is ‘blogoshpere’ a real word?

I’m sort of amazed by all the blogs. People are writing about so many things… some are interesting to me… some are not… some are cleaver, insightful, delightful… some are not. This blog is interesting… maybe not.

Muni, Muni, Muni

I like it when Muni employees show a sense of humor. I heard this on the PA system at Montgomery Station this morning:

“Muni custodian, Muni custodian. Your services are needed at Van Ness Station. We have an extremely serious situation at Van Ness that needs your attention. We have a coffee spill.”

Marriage equality

I was working downtown in 2004 when Gavin started issuing same-sex marriage licenses. I always regretted not running up to City Hall to watch the marriages at that time.

On Tuesday we picked up a picnic lunch and went over to City Hall to watch a bunch of couples tying the knot and coming out the door to a crowd cheering and applauding. It was such a happy scene, and we wondered how anyone could be against committed couples getting married?

Then a walk, a nap, another walk, a nice dinner at a little French Bistro and a cable car ride. A special day, to be sure, but, in a way, just another day here in San Francisco.

Muni madness

Muni seems to be on the fritz lately. I’ve been riding the N-Judah a couple or few times a week as of late, and the trains are breaking down, the schedules aren’t being met and the crowding is heavy. I’ve also noticed that the NextMuni displays have been showing “ghost” buses and trains; the sign will say “arriving” and nothing arrives.

Postal

The Post Office did an interesting trick last week. Apparently they changed some of the drivers around, and they were leaving package notes from the wrong pads; folks were being notified to pick up their packages from Post Offices across town instead of their local office. I know of Sunset residents getting Pine Station notices, and Geary residents getting Sunset notices. The packages were, in fact, right where they were supposed to be. The woman at the Sunset Station on 22nd apologized for the mix-up, then started laughing: “You all went all the way to Pine Street? The parking is terrible over there!” We actually took a train and walked.

Outdoor lunch

It’s been hot here the last couple of days. Makes it less appealing to go for lunchtime walks, though I’m trying to get in some walking time after the sun sets and it starts to cool down a bit. The warm weather did make for a nice outdoor lunch on the patio at a mid-range sit-down Mexican restaurant this afternoon. I don’t think there are a lot of “proper” Mexican restaurants here, since there are so many take-out taquerias. The food was good, though a bit pricey. And they looked at me in mild horror when I asked for some sour cream to go with my fancy tacos.

Life wants

What do you really want? That’s the questions posed lately to me about life, jobs and the future. That question seems hard to answer. What do I want? What do I need? I have so much, do I need more, or just something different, something new? I love change and hate change; it’s exciting to do something new, and it’s scary to do something new. I’m trying to think of the right cliche here (yes, I do like cliches; I think they’re an easy and effective way to tap into the group conscious)… lemonade from lemons, sailing with the current, playing the hand dealt. No, I think it’s more zen than that. Life is difficult. Life is dynamic. Life is amazing. Yes.

Networks and firewalls

I have a love/hate relationship with the Cisco PIX and ASA firewalls. They are good, solid, full-featured, well-supported devices. And their eccentricities and nuances sometimes drive me crazy. Partly my own fault, I suppose, for designing weird network schemes in my test lab, simply for my own amusement. That being said, I’m using one for IPSec remote access VPN connectivity to my home and test lab. And I’ve recently set up a Cisco VPN Concentrator at work, a “similar yet totally different” device which is providing rock solid remote access to the office. Both reliable and persnickety (like me?).

Sailing

We managed to get out for some sailing last weekend. It was blowing hard in the slot and we had a time of it, even with a reefed main. But docking at Angel Island and enjoying the summer feeling in Ayala Cove is always a treat. Even if we had to endure the slot again to get back. I love steady wind with calm water, like when we’re behind Treasure Island (Sailing Blog).

Still here

I’ve lived here long enough to sometimes forget to look around and see. But then I remember to remember.

State Supreme Court says same-sex couples have right to marry. The ruling was just announced, and what a great thing.

Let people choose partners that they love and build their lives with those partners. It’s just so obvious what is right here. It makes me sad that there are hate-filled people working against this; perhaps they need to concentrate on their own lives and leave other consenting adults alone.

I try to update this blog at least once a month, and sometimes it happens a couple times a month. That has been the right balance for me here and I like it that way.

I missed April.

I was trying to think of what to write all month. Another abstract descriptive story of cable cars and windy San Francisco nights? Generalized tales of the people in my life? Which servers and operating systems I’ve been playing with lately? Working hard at my job? The weather, which is always of interest to me?

Not sure. This entry is one of those exercises in simply writing for the sake of writing. And, of course, so this blog has been updated within about a month. Sans April. Just taking action for the sake of taking action is perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, it’s a great tool.

Life is rolling along, complete with new challenges and changes. I’ve been walking a surprisingly navigable line between confidence and fear, new and old, changes and comfort. Yes, there are extremes, but I believe today’s extremes become tomorrow’s day to day life, and I like that a lot. To me that is growth.

All here at home, my place in the world, with the fog rolling over the hills, the Muni trains running in the tunnels, the tasks on my to-list making me tired and the soundtrack playing in the background with the sub woofer dialed way down so as to not disturb the neighbors too much.

We sat on top of the hill last night, looking West out over the Sunset District. The Sunset is huge — geographically, if not demographically. It stretches out toward the ocean, a grid of rectangular blocks and two or three story duplexes and apartment buildings. Restaurants, shops, oil change places, fabric stores, gas stations, supermarkets, parks, schools, churches. There are even a couple big windmills if you know where to look. I know where to look for lots of things out here.

We can see the lights from the cars on 19th Ave as they cross into the park and disappear around the curve through the trees. This is the quiet side of the city.

The Sunset District is peach colored at night. The buildings have distinct colors during the day, but now everything is just uniformly peach. It’s the streetlights. Sodium-something-or-other lamps, I try to explain. I think they use those lamps to limit light pollution. I think I remember learning that when I was a kid. There’s a metropolitan area of something like seven million people stretching behind us; the light pollution isn’t being stopped at all.

“It’s like being home,” she said. I think we both felt like we were wandering for a long time until we found this place.

I’d been on top of this hill before. I can’t remember when, but it was hazy, daytime and I had climbed up the hill and collected a little bit of the rock at the top. That piece of rock sat on my bookshelf for years.

“It’s Greywacke.” Darryl, the geology professor at City College, had told us that all of the rock making up the hills of San Francisco is Greywacke.

I left the Sunset more than five years ago. I was on my way down then. When I first arrived I was full of excitement and potential. Just a kid, new to the big city, ready to make my dreams come true. When I left the Sunset, I had been holed up alone in the back of an apartment for years. I had long since thrown out all of my furniture, boarded up the front windows and ceased to exist on the inside.

I’ve lived on the other side of the city for years now, alive and existing on the inside, alive and existing on the outside, too. And I just sort of forgot about the Sunset until I started coming out to her neighborhood. My old neighborhood.

It started slowly and built up, memories leading to feelings. At first it was just nice to see the old places, the restaurants, the streetcars rumbling down Judah, the way the sky looks really blue when it’s not foggy. Riding to work on the N-Judah has been making me smile, even when it’s crowded and I have to stand all the way to Montgomery.

Last night I went to a meeting at 19th Ave and Judah before we met up, and the memories of the past started coming in, in huge waves. The way the streetlights bathe the concrete below in muted light, the sound of the streetcars rumbling up and down the hills and the way the dusk settles over the neighborhood made me think of the fog and the haze of my past, the cloudy memories and the self-destructive behavior. Of the smoke. And the escape. Thank God for the escape.

I hadn’t been past 19th Ave more than a handful of times in the last five years. Two days ago I had some time for myself so I rode to the end of the N line, walked the trail along beach, watched the sunset and laughed at the dogs playing at Fort Funston. I had to switch buses at the mall to get back. Past the college and the bookstores, the big parking lots and the students horsing around on the Muni platform.

It’s strange to see the old places where things were bad and to be back again when things are good. The good is sustainable now. I’m whole now. I’m present now. I’m here now.

“It is like being home,” I replied, with a smile.

Meez Roomz and Games are now up and running on Facebook. You can create a Meez avatar, create a room, invite friends to chat in the room and even watch videos (YouTube, etc.) together in the room. I’m currently involved with Meez, so I know how much cool technology has gone into this.

Meez Roomz and Games on Facebook

Me, in my Meez Room on Facebook:

Jeremy: Hey Hillary, how’s it going?

Hillary Clinton: Hey JR, nice to see you! How you doing?

Jeremy: Oh, I’m fine. Hillary, could you make me a bagel, and fix all of our healthcare problems?

Hillary Clinton: Of course, JR, I can do that. Do you want cream cheese on your bagel?

Jeremy: Mmm, yes. And butter.

Hillary Clinton: JR, I think getting rid of the butter is going to be part of solving the healthcare problem…

Spondork and I went for a walk on Mt Tam yesterday, in the rain.

I don’t think that walking on a mountain in the rain is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. And I don’t think it’s the smartest.

We stopped at Walgreens on Lombard before crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. I bought a poncho, since Spondork pointed out that carrying my gigantic blue and yellow umbrella into the woods would be dumb and “un mountain man -like.”

Right, that would be the dumb part.

We also bought a couple more of the “three dollar Walgreens hats” that we tend to buy every time we head out on a poorly planned outdoor adventure. They’re cheap, bright and goofy, and I think they are starting to litter both of our homes. I know there are at least two of them sitting on my bookshelf already.

On the drive up Mt Tam there is this ridge that actually has houses on it. It’s some weird zoning aberration that goes on for maybe a mile; as far as I know the entire rest of the mountain is National Forest and is protected from development. As we drove on the ridge and looked at the valley below, all we could see was a gray wall of clouds and rain. We passed a VW bus on the side of the road that looked like it was just one or two more gusts from being thrown off the ground into the canyon that presumably still lay below.

We got to the parking lot three miles below the East Peak and pulled in; it was so foggy all we could see was a wall of white in front of us. I joked that we were either pulling into the parking lot or we were about to drive off the side of the mountain into the abyss. Sometimes I make jokes when I am scared.

There were other folks out hiking (that was reassuring). An older couple advised us where to go, incorrectly, as it turned out. So we found ourselves on an unmarked trail alongside a rushing creek. Spondork walked animatedly ahead of me, talking loudly and gesticulating wildly.

The walking was great; I’ve been back on my game lately, so I was mowing up that hill with ease. But the roaring creek three feet below the crumbling earth that we walked on was making me nervous. Spondork started to totter as he crossed a log and I grabbed him and shoved him back onto the trail. Fucking shit. It occurred to me that it’s totally possible to get lost on Mt Tam. And, for some reason, I remembered the Blair Witch Project.

Forty five minutes and seven jumps over the creek later, we came up on a real trail, a fire road perhaps. Suddenly I could see the sheer beauty around me. The tall trees, the mist hanging in the air, the rocks and moss and leaves all around, everything drenched and sated by the water dropping out of the wind.

We walked down the big trail until we got to the part where it flooded over. We took turns peeing in the woods. And then we turned around and came back. We talked and joked and made fun of each other and everyone we know. And instead of taking the unmarked trail that we came on (we couldn’t find it again, thank goodness) we found a well marked trail with a name that we recognized and knew would lead us back. This trail was narrow and came down the grade on switchbacks. Spondork and I walked and yelled at the top of our lungs and made bad jokes and bad imitations of people we know. This is how we bond, I guess.

I’m not sure how to describe the beauty of the woods in the rain, but I think anyone who has seen the woods can imagine looking across a field as the rain comes down in torrents, hearing the water floating and dropping from all sides, hearing your own footsteps crossing through puddles, yelling and laughing like little kids and going from feeling lost to feeling found.

###

We dedicated our trek to Walking Bob, our friend and a hell of a guy, who is now hiking around somewhere beyond where we can currently go. We miss you, Bob.

Years ago, my friend Elvispope moved to New York City. I talked to him after his first week there and asked how it was going. He said that he had done this and that, and that he had immediately obtained a library card.

When I was a kid the library was a second home. It may have actually been a first home, some of the time. Amid the raging chaos in my young home life, the library was a safe place, a warm place, an inviting place. And it was filled to the rafters with books, of course. My parents were readers, and the importance of literacy was instilled in me at a very young age.

I would go to the library and seemingly spend entire days there, from opening time to closing time. It was across the street from the elementary school and the front double doors opened at an angle to the street corner. I think the doors were a worn brown and the building was an older-style beige stucco. I suspect it was built in the 1920s, it had that “old enough to be old but once was new and beautiful” look.

Inside there were two wings, and in one of those wings sat a claw foot bathtub. It had been painted blue on the outside, while still white on the inside, with a wooden mast propped through the drain hole, and a small white canvas sail rigged to a thin boom. Yes, it was a sailing bathtub! And it was filled with pillows and stuffed animals and various soft and cushion-like things.

I was the captain of that vessel many a day, the sail rustling above me as I lay there on the soft stuff and read stacks and stacks of books. I’d get up occasionally to get a new book or to use the bathroom. There was a whole series of mystery books where the answer to the puzzle was written reversed and backwards at the end; I would carry the books into the bathroom to read them through the mirror.

I don’t remember the exact details of my comings and goings; whether I rode my bike (which was likely the case) or walked. I’m not sure if I was there after school or just on weekends. I do know that while it provided comfort and a lot of learning, the library was also a place to escape and hide from the difficulties of my reality. Everything has mixed blessings, I suppose. There was a lot of burden in my young life; someone had to take care of things around the house when those who were tasked with the job couldn’t be relied upon to perform, or even to show up. But for awhile on some days, I had a time and a place to be the captain of my imagination and to feel a little bit safer.

A few days ago Subby and I were out for a walk, talking and enjoying a crisp clear afternoon. We stopped at the beautiful SF Main Library; she was picking up a book that was on hold for her, so she could take it home and read it with her partner, MDT (I think it’s unbelievably cute that they read together). The library’s first floor was recently remodeled and she showed it off to me with barely contained excitement.

Over the years, as my life and work have dictated my digital existence, I haven’t been much of a library patron; I feel sort of ashamed to admit that. I’ve bought umpteen zillion books of my own, and given away most of them to keep my library from getting as big as the public one. I love books and I have to remember that I don’t need to own every book that catches my fancy, that I can read them and let them move on to the next person.

Or I can borrow them from this amazing library here in my amazing city. I was impressed by the automated checkout, the email notifications when books are due, and how much cool stuff they have.

I’d love to say that I checked out War and Peace and read it clean in an evening; I didn’t. I borrowed some DVDs, including the first season of Taxi. I hadn’t seen it in years, and I don’t know if I ever saw the first episode before (it’s brilliant).

Taxi was on TV at night back then (the theme, “Angela,” was the first song I ever had recorded on a cassette tape), back in those early days, when I’d come home from reading in my bathtub sailboat, check on the apartment, make sure everyone was accounted for and hope that I’d have chances to get back there again on other days, during the calms between the storms.

It’s 2008!

For the last day of 2007 I went to work, met up with a lunch group, came home, did laundry, called someone and made a date, took a nap and then took the bus to the Castro area to attend two New Year’s Eve parties. I met some fun new folks and marked the new year with close friends and an intimate late night. Then I walked home, enjoying the exercise, the cool breeze and the city lights. The Transamerica building is blinking its regular red light; the multicolored holiday light has been retired until next year. The holidays are over (except for having today, New Year’s Day, off, I suppose) and it’s time to dive back in to the regular day to day.

2007 was a big year for me; I have a lot of optimism about 2008. Out with the old, in with the new, positive choices, making progress.

On another note, my Mac is at the Apple Store getting a new hard drive, under warranty. I hope it’s back soon!

Plus some New Year’s resolutions…

Technology

When I bought my primary Mac a while back, I decided that I was going to treat it as a sort of “home production server,” meaning I wouldn’t use it to try beta software, I wouldn’t repartition the disk, I wouldn’t do things to mess it up and, thus, I wouldn’t need to reinstall the OS after some unnecessary technological debacle (I have other computers that I use for testing, experimenting and messing things up). But over time this computer started to degrade as some applications came and went and various parts saw incremental upgrades, and one not-so-incremental upgrade; for the sake of convenience I did an in-place upgrade to 10.5 instead of doing a clean install. Sure, all my stuff was intact, but performance and overall reliability went down, of course.

Last night I decided to bite the bullet and do a clean install. I run backups every night, so I made sure the backup data was valid, then started formatting. Everything went great and the machine was running perfectly after installing the OS and various universal binaries of the applications I use. Then I realized that I didn’t have any of the iLife apps that came preinstalled originally (iPhoto being the only one that is particularly important to me). I did some searching around and found that I could install the older iLife apps from the OS disc that originally came with the machine. I fired up that installation and everything was fine until it crashed unexpectedly. And brought the whole system down with it. The internal hard drive was totally corrupted! I booted from the CD and ran Disk Utility. It took three tries and then it claimed the massive amounts of corruption had been fixed. I went to start up the machine and, well, it’s not coming up at all. Here we go again.

The positive things: my backups are solid (as expected, using a shell script created before Time Machine was an option), it was pretty painless to import my database backups back into MySQL and it was a snap to configure apache2 for the webapps I use locally. I get to run through this whole routine again, which is good practice. And once I get this rig done up again, I expect performance and reliability to be back on track.

Update: I did another full rebuild, reinstalled all my apps and copied all of my data back, only to have the machine freeze up and refuse to boot again. Time to try TechTool and then go to a diagnostics appointment; the machine is still under AppleCare.

On another note, my boss bought me one of the new thin aluminum Apple Keyboards to use at work (I thought he was just being nice; turns out I was typing really loud on the old clackety keyboard); I liked it so much I bought one for myself to use at home. Excellent keyboard.

Travel

I did a small amount of travel over the holidays, both by train and by plane. I like train trips since I don’t have to deal with the airport, I can move around freely while en route and, most importantly, I can bring a laptop and write. Life has been so busy lately that having a day riding the rails meant I had a day to write and reflect. I wrote over 5,000 words on the train, examining my year and my accomplishments, looking at patterns I have been repeating and working out the things I’d like to keep doing and the things I need to change or stop doing. There are some hard decisions there, but that’s what taking an objective look at myself is all about. I was also able to see some amazing scenery and see how the train winds its way down a particularly tall mountain pass.

The plane ride was pleasant; I chatted the entire time with an interesting couple sitting next to me. We had a remarkably broad conversation for three people who had just met.

The silly moment was before the flight, at the security check, when they pulled my bags for a secondary search. I hadn’t even thought that my tube of toothpaste would be a problem, but it was more than the three ounce limit. I think that limit is ridiculous (as is removing our shoes), but I also know that it’s just not worth arguing about. I just quietly said, “okay, you can keep the toothpaste.” The security woman looked at me with compassion and asked if I’d like her to squeeze some of the toothpaste into a plastic ziplock bag so I could have a little with me to brush my teeth later. I thought that was nice of her, though it occurred to me later that since she believed it was actually toothpaste, and was willing to give some back, then why not let me keep all of it? I figure we were both doing our parts to act sane, within the confines of the insanity imposed around us.

Transit

I got a chance last week to ride the double decker bus that Muni is testing out. It’s nice and clean, and the view from upstairs is interesting. The ceiling on the top level is pretty low, so heads will be bumped. The bus itself felt responsive and didn’t seem to strain under the load. I did notice that it has double axles at the back; I’m assuming that is to carry what must be much more weight than a regular bus carries. I’m curious how these buses compare, weight-wise and fuel efficiency-wise, to the long articulated buses that are used on many of the routes.

I think that an electric trolley-bus version of the double decker would be needed here in SF; we should be lessening the amount of diesel burned here, not increasing it.

Weather

Someone recently said, snarkily, that I “just write about the weather” here. I disagree. The weather is a handy way to mark changes, and the changes in the weather often remind me of the passage of time and prompt me to write a little something here. But the weather is in the background, helping me set a tone for the limited writing I do in this space. I’d like to think that someone who thinks I just write about the weather is someone who is not really paying much attention to what I’m saying. That being said, it’s 45 degrees Fahrenheit right now. To me that is really cold! I am so grateful for the double-paned windows, the radiator and the new boiler down in the basement, firing with half the gas consumption of the old one.

Work

I have some interesting projects underway at work. The big ongoing project has been rebuilding the core network, moving everything to new equipment, renumbering the network with new subnets and moving machines around. All without the folks using those systems noticing. It’s sort of like the way Caltrans is rebuilding the bay bridge and approaches; they build around the old and then move the traffic back and forth, all without shutting down the roads. Caltrans has closed the bridge a couple times, but I’ve avoided any prolonged outages. We’ve migrated from one firewall to another and moved the core switching to a new “layer 3 switch” (layer 3 switching is still so cool). There was about 30 seconds of downtime when we switched traffic over to the new firewall. I’ve been joking that we scheduled it for when the CEO was in his car for the ten-minute drive between the office and his house. It did take some time to migrate some IPSec tunnels to the new firewall, but those tunnels are for specific traffic, not general access.

Design

I’m rooting through my list of art and design projects, looking to pick out a couple small projects I can fit in here and there, scoping some medium projects to make them more manageable and doing some preliminary planning for a larger remodel-type project that may get underway later in the year.

Social

I already have plans into the first couple weeks of the new year. Community, seeing friends, helping folks when I can, enjoying people and being enjoyed; that’s what it’s all about.

I’ve been posting short status updates fairly regularly on Facebook; if you know me in person, please add me to your friends list there.

I’ll be attending the usual events and look forward to seeing folks and catching up.

New Year’s resolutions

I actually have New Year’s resolutions to exercise more, eat more vegetables, lower my fat intake, rest more and pay more attention to healthy choices, physically and emotionally. Delightfully outrageous, indeed.

The days have turned cold and short. The air is chilly and the sun is setting at some ridiculous hour, maybe 5pm? I was on BART this evening coming back from working on the boat in Alameda, and as we sped along the tracks the darkening sky turned shades of muted purple and burnt orange. I find myself noting the progress of my life by the seasons and the sunlight. This many seasonal cycles since I moved to this apartment; that many went by when I was at the last apartment. But over time they blur some. I don’t remember the rains and the sunlight in the same detail from five years ago, or ten.

Today was a day of time to myself, time to think things through, time to not make any plans with deadlines [if my boss happens to read this, yes, I did spend some time this weekend tweaking the VPN, as I promised I would]. Today was a time to just let the day itself provide the flow to me; usually I am driven by the entries on my calendar, the days becoming collections of scheduled pearls connected with strings of sleep that are usually too short and thin to support them all.

I walked down to BART and took the train across. I walked to Alameda. I stopped for lunch and then walked to the marina. I ran the engine, charged the batteries, flaked the sails, hosed everything down, checked the bilge and sea cocks and enjoyed the clear afternoon air. Some other sailboats were out, flying their 150s and spinnakers in the light winds and gliding across the calm water. I walked back to BART. I rode back across. I dragged my weary self up the hill to my apartment. The radiator is on, the space is warm, the music is playing, the dinner has been consumed. I’m online, reading, adding friends to the social networking sites and pondering. I’m writing here and soon will write in my private journal as well.

The last couple months have been so busy in so many ways, always filled with community. My community is my chosen family. The Bent and Primal parties were a blast, with friends that mean the world to me. Another training cycle ran its course over the last couple months. Friends are everywhere. I’m so fortunate to have so many wonderful relationships in my life, even if I feel sad when one goes awry for awhile. I simultaneously have better boundaries while also being so much more open; I’m making better decisions.

So another Sunday night. The laundry is in the machine, the groceries are put away, the checkbook is balanced and the calendar has been updated. Who knew being a grown up would be so delightfully outrageous while being infinitely more manageable?

This week it has been raining. Not a lot, but a little each day. The skies have been dark and down pouring, light and drizzling, clear and foggy with winds and calms and some stars poking out last night as I was walking past Huntington Park on Nob Hill. This catches my attention; I never see stars in the sky anymore. I was on my way back from dropping off a car (from one of the local car share companies/organizations) after dropping off a friend.

On the way back to the garage I had a few minutes before my car was due, so I crested the hill, over the cable car tracks (you can catch air, not that I necessarily recommend doing so), saw the beam flash from the lighthouse on Alcatraz across the dark water.

Late night San Francisco is a place of dangerously fast moving cabs running red lights and generally terrorizing the denizens of the dark. But not the one in front of me on Polk Street. That cab is moving slowly and with intent, scanning the bars and clubs for an outstretched hand and another fare.

Still a few more minutes until my reservation is up. I should have been in bed a couple hours ago; I could have put this sedan away and gone to sleep right after dropping off my friend, but I hate to waste my alloted car time. Next, a stop at the 24 hour supermarket for the toiletries I forgot to buy earlier when I walked to the pharmacy. Three giggling girls are at the checkout counter and the cashier is doing something to make them laugh. I see he is twirling a toilet plunger before dropping it into a bag and handing it to one of them. If I had been behind them in line I would not have been able to resist asking what happened that made them buy a plunger in the wee hours of the morning. I mean, I pretty much know what happened, but maybe the story would have been more interesting or exotic than just that. At this time of night, who knows what might happen.

The store’s parking lot exits on a one-way street, so I find myself going down, then over, then up, then back to California Street to glide into the garage. I am exhausted and delirious and happy and content. The wind and drizzle hit my face, my sweatshirt flaps behind me in the breeze. Three blocks, two stairs, one elevator ride, two locks, one stop in the bathroom and a crawl into bed.

I’m totally happy to be making some real progress on decluttering and organizing. Not that my place is some packrat hovel to start with, but it’s amazing how much stuff can pile up over even a small amount of time.

I’ve been reading Apartment Therapy and have embarked on one of the first projects recommended in that book: creating a landing strip. The idea is to have a system in the entryway to deal with coats and bags, to sort mail and to put away things like keys and cell phones. Basically, none of the carry-in items should continue into the living space.

My entryway is small, so I needed to come up with ways to fit things in, with a goal of leaving the entryway open with nothing on the floor. After some searching, sketching and playing with ideas, I decided to (a) use the back of the door for coats and bags, (b) sort mail on the side of the shelving unit next to the door and (c) store shoes on or at the inside wall across from the door.

I found the first pieces to make this plan work at the Container Store. I installed two of their brushed metal coat racks on the back of the door, one at the top and one midway. Now I can hang a bunch of coats, sweatshirts, bags and outgoing laundry (headed to the cleaners) on the door. Nothing on the floor.

I found a solution to the mail sorting problem, as well as a place for keys, phone, etc., at the Container Store as well. They sell a “Fabric Wall-Mounted Magazine Organizer” that has four pockets. I adapted it to mount on the side of the bookshelf next to the door, with the first pocket holding keys and phone (plugged into its charger), the second pocket for personal and social mail, the third pocket for bills and financial mail and the fourth pocket for magazines, catalogs and entertainment mail. Items in the fourth pocket cycle into the recycle bin, sometimes directly.

When I came home the first evening after setting this all up, I was amazed how everything did, in fact, have a place to go and nothing followed me in further. Everything is in a known place to be dealt with and recycled out as needed. It’s sweet.

The last part of the entryway is dealing with shoes. Right now they all sit across from the door; I am still deciding whether to put a regular shoe rack there or install one of the wall-mounted “TRONES” systems from IKEA.

On the decluttering front, I made a pass through my books and pulled out about 25 of them, which I then gave away via Craigslist, and another 20 or so that went from the bookshelves to the storage room downstairs (tech/work books that I’m not using now, but may need again in the future). Letting go of that first batch is making it easier to make additional passes and remove more. It feels really liberating.

I did a pass through the kitchen as well, moving things that were on top of the fridge, or on the counters, in to the lower cabinets. Now the whole kitchen is clear and looks even tidier than before.

Finally, another tip from Apartment Therapy: each week I am buying fresh flowers to liven up my apartment and treat it well and with respect. The flowers add a splash of organic texture, color and scent which adds even more life to my living space!

So here I am, once again writing about Apple. I’ll keep this quick. Tomorrow Apple is holding an event at Moscone Center, where they are expected to announce the latest generation of the iPod product line.

What I would like to see: an iPod which is basically an iPhone without the phone. Give us a large screen, touch controls, wi-fi, web browsing, contact management, calendaring and all of the usual music and video features, running a version of OS X.

Update, September 5th: The iPod touch is more or less what I had hoped for. Saving my pennies…

Update, September 11th: Apparently Apple is crippling the Calendar on the iPod touch, so entries can’t be added and synced back from the device. That is super lame. No longer saving my pennies, at least until the damn thing is out and its capabilities are fully known.

Come on Apple!

There seems to be a growing number of people, tools and sites dedicated to “getting things done,” a term which seems to encompass not just the actual trademarked “Getting Things Done” (or “GTD”) system developed by David Allen, but more general lifestyle organization tips and tricks.

I love these kinds of things. I’m all about finding ways to organize, reduce clutter, get work done and find ways to make my living spaces both cozy and coherent. I’ve recently started reading sites like Life Hacker (it’s rad) and 43 Folders; their ideas fuel my ideas, which is a sort of creative high that really hits a sweet spot for me.

Where I have trouble, though, is learning about and adhering to strict methods of execution. Although I crave organizational tools, I avoid committing to them because, perhaps, I don’t want to feel locked in to one system where I can’t be creative and flexible and spontaneous. I find myself starting books like The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People or Getting Things Done — finding them very engaging and thinking they make loads of sense — but not finishing the books or working the methods presented. I love the idea of being adept at change, but I struggle to actually be someone who can change quickly.

So my goal right now is to finish the books and implement some of these processes so I can accomplish more of the things I want to do.

Note: I’ve started adding lifestyle/organization sites to this blog’s links section.

Here are a couple cool items from DWR, both of which are thin, vertical and unique:

Image: Design Within Reach

The bookshelf holds books horizontally on thin shelves; once it’s full the shelves basically disappear and it looks like a huge freestanding stack. I like the coat rack’s design which seems both clean and complicated to me. I’m thinking the bookshelf may fit by the closet and the coat rack could, of course, go by the front door.

My place is feeling very cozy with the new love seat; I chose a bold color and it works quite well. Some of my walls are a fairly bold color as well, which seems to change throughout the day as the outside light changes. I keep looking for new pieces that might work, but then I have to remember that this space is basically filled now. A new and more attractive ceiling fan would be great to replace the existing one. And the old-school track lights in the kitchen are ready to be updated.

I’m on the lookout for some wall shelves that will fill this weird “nook” in the corner of my kitchen. It’s 24 inches wide by 16 inches deep in a back corner, and is basically wasted space right now. Since it’s not visible from the rest of the room, I am going to shelve it all the way to the ceiling to create a pantry and storage area. I’d like to cook more and I need a more accessible pantry-type space. I think I’ll have the specifics figured out soon.

I’ve had a nice weekend. I had time to rest and do chores during the day on Saturday. I went to an adult-themed party with some friends Saturday night, where I met a lot of wonderful new folks and had a great time. This morning one of my sisters was in town with a friend, so we all met up for brunch and catching up. Then more chores, some exercise, more rest and getting ready for the week ahead. Once this last load of laundry is done, I’ll be all set and can go to sleep. I have a busy week ahead, working by day and being social by evening. It’s a nice balance, as long as I get enough sleep!

Update: I ordered the book Apartment Therapy: The Eight Step Home Cure for more design ideas. I suspect my philosophies on space, flow and lack of clutter will mesh with the book’s philosophy, “how to create a home that works for you — physically, emotionally and spiritually.” The Apartment Therapy site/blog has been a great source of ideas and examples of others’ designs.

Image: Amazon / Apartment Therapy

Something very exciting happened yesterday: the new IKEA catalog landed in my mailbox. Say what you will about IKEA furniture — it’s cheap, it’s “dorm like,” whatever — I love the stuff. Some of Most of Nearly all of my furniture is from IKEA and I like that it’s light and contemporary. They have so much stuff it’s easy to find things that work even if you’re an “armchair designer” like me. And IKEA, as a company, professes to be environmentally responsible.

Now my apartment is rather small, so I don’t really buy new furniture much, but changing things up, adding little lamps and things really helps keep me from getting bored in my little space. I go through the IKEA catalog, the DWR catalog, the Pottery Barn catalog, Apartment Therapy’s site and similar catalogs and publications, looking for ideas, subtle things I can change, artsy projects that I can embark upon. My goal is always to avoid adding clutter and keep things tasteful and interesting, with a little whimsy thrown in. Yes, I said whimsy; whimsy is important.

This morning I heard some banging downstairs; I had heard that the unit downstairs was going to be renovated, and sure enough, painting and tiling was in full swing. I had never seen the unit below and it was interesting to compare. We have the same exterior wall layout, but that’s about it. The unit downstairs has walls separating the kitchen, living area and the closet and bathroom areas, whereas mine had those walls removed at some point and it’s a fairly open space. The built-in cabinetry and moldings downstairs are lovely and seeing them made me feel sad that my place no longer has those charms. But I much prefer a light open space to smaller individual rooms. When I lived in one of those “railroad” apartments, where all the rooms were off a long main hallway, things felt constricted. I would like to reinstall molding and re-tile my bathroom someday; the molding in particular would add back some of the missing architectural detail.

The building I live in is interesting, in and of itself. It was built in 1913 and has the standard San Francisco facade with bay windows and fire escapes. The elevator is an open-cage Otis and, from what I’ve found on the web, it’s of an even earlier vintage. I suppose they found it used and resuscitated it when the building was under construction. I think this whole block was built then, part of the rebirth after the 1906 earthquake. We have steam heat and old-fashioned radiators, which are now powered by a brand new gas-fired steam boiler in the basement; it replaced the cast iron monstrosity that finally wore out this year.

Update: Okay, well, I went to IKEA and bought an Ektorp loveseat; it’s the one that is comfortable to sit on and the covers can be switched off for different colors and patterns. So, one of the old chairs has been mothballed to the basement.