I know, I know.

This made me cry: http://www.darcomic.org/2009/12/29/theend/.

[This is an email, I’ve found everyone else is happier in the long run if I don’t actually send these anymore.]

I’m working with a piece of software that runs every five minutes. It has to, as it collects data about the present state of the system from trending. If it doesn’t finish in five minutes, it’s supposed to commit suicide (makes me think of STONITH code from clustering: Shoot The Other Node In The Head). It currently takes a few minutes to collect all the data it needs, and only one copy of the software can run at a time, so there’s a small window of a minute or two where I can initiate testing runs. If I knew I’d still be waiting like this, I probably would have built a development copy of this system.

Instead, I’m wandering the Internet; reading for work a bit, reading comics, poking around social networks. I clicked random a few times on xkcd and hit this early comic I had forgotten. I’ve been thinking a lot this year about goals. Granted I was thinking about them this fall, but they were specific about moving away from some certain things and toward others. Lately I’ve been more meta, nearly in a “what does it all mean” way, but mostly in a “what would make bryan shut the fuck up already” way. I don’t complain about much, but I make up for that in ranting about meaning. Anyway, isn’t it funny that comics like that still remind me of you? Hope you’re well.

As I sat on the phone listening to someone describe what they had tried to select the VCR on the TV, I got thinking, “really, how hard is it to follow wires from one box to another box?” But then, I’m good at troubleshooting systems. I know how to break something down into parts and isolate which parts matter, and which don’t to quickly judge the amount of attention to give to each at different points in the troubleshooting process. Input devices, output devices, switches, connecting cables, I identify the roles that devices in an entertainment system play without consciously thinking about it in a split second, like the scenes in movies where spy type roles brag about identifying exits, weapons and people upon walking into a restaurant.

Then I got think about something J said about how my intensity in relationships, and how I really try when many others don’t, as well as her recent comment that if M had any interest in a relationship with me at the time, it would have been a priority and she would have made time. Ultimately, she simply did not care. Which is fine, and important to hold close to me. Because so many people care so little about so much, and so much about so little.

And so, at 10pm at night, where I haven’t been home for 36+ hours, I’m trying to build aggregate graphs out of data points that I deem relational in the multiple clusters worldwide that host my product from which to make capacity planning decisions. Why? Why would I do anything else? I’m unable to convince myself to leave.

Best I can tell, I woke up sad this morning from restless dreams about feelings I miss. Plans have been made to go to Maine, and once I swallow I raise an eyebrow at how caught up I am in surviving. I’m far closer to hitting that rut that I had ever hoped to, but I can’t convince myself otherwise. J and I talked a lot today about my idealizing M, and how that she likely felt that I believed she was someone more than who she believed she was, and this created an uncommunicated expectation. Other information seems to confirm that she generally wasn’t or isn’t interested in putting time into relationships, which should serve as more than it does to my own feelings. Which makes me frustrated with myself.

I talked to dad today, he wanted to know what was wrong. When I talked to J, I said I was exhausted, which is an emotional thing for me, where I feel like I don’t have any more to give anyone. When I talked to M today, I just said I was sad. I’m not depressed, clinically or otherwise, I have plenty of motivation and I accomplish much, I’m just frustrated with feeling much more excited about fantasy than anything I’m accomplishing. I want to say “what is the point” but it carries such cliche. I don’t have any problem knowing why I want to do things, or feeling good about them after. Just, perhaps, I’m thinking about too many big questions too early in my life.

Yup, spring! Since everything else is growing, so must work as well. At some point I’ll run out of continents to deploy servers to, I swear. Then I’ll sleep. Or like I usually say, maybe when I’m dead.

An old friend looked me up on the internet today.
JS: What has been negative lately?
Like, what gets you down?
Me: How dramatic should I sound?
JS: as dramatic as is accurate
Me: I recently had a _______ that can be summarized as my being smart and stoic, so I'm not good judging this

It’s hard to not talk about love, cancer, brain injury, family, and alcoholism without sounding dramatic. It sounds even worse like a list like that. Anyway, I’m going to be fine. I think. I mean, I’m going to keep being the way I’ve always been. And that’s fine. Right? Anyway, I’m officially stoic now. I’m stretched thin, but it is pretty interesting how emotionally difficult problems consume more resources than other problems, and I’m wavering on and off the beginnings of a path of hermit-dom for old-fashioned recovery.

I’m planning with Tori and Mom to visit Maine all at the same time. It’s frustrating as hell to feel that mere conversation with M about going to Maine produced the most excitement I can remember. That whole lobotomy party sounds not all that bad sometime. Anyway, and this summer? Well, the end of my trial, one year at WT, big things to look forward to. There’s light at the end of that tunnel.

oh, i really want to watch kenshin with you!

Talking to T today about feelings toward past relationships, she essentially made the ‘hold on to the good times’ implication. I wonder, if I focus hard enough, if I can leverage that over my emotions? Whatever. I don’t care tonight. I’m too exhausted to care about ghosts.

What a day. Is it over yet? What is this, nearly twenty four hours? All that was this morning was followed by landlord follies, lunch with J (and fucking traffic), bike parts, manning Prof. Dave’s checkpoint with Colin + Taarna, the after party, dinner with those kids, running into yet more bike kids (come to think of it, running into everyone), finally to the 9lb with M, mistaking someone for B, and seeing S there.

Meh. B is drunk. And so it goes.

Riding down Alaskan Way at 6:30 this morning I got stopped for directions by a man in a car, then a woman and her young son walking down the street. For a moment I thought, “Stop ruining this beautiful morning with your broken direction finding!” Then, of course, I laughed and got a coffee.

Being asked to flush the toilet after I pee, followed by a story about feeling uncomfortable waking up in a house with roommates gone by their boyfriend still hanging out; I had to stifle a “fucking really?” response. On the ride home this morning I spent some time thinking about this. I was reminded of A asking me to take a shower when I spent the night and ensuing time spent considering how I felt about that. I had a hard time not feeling nostalgic for M asking me to go bike camping in a ditch in Tacoma with her shortly after we met. Scratch that, I felt nostalgic, I had a hard time convincing myself to feel forward. It’s not that I don’t understand and respect where they are coming from, but this is the broad respect I give everyone. This isn’t my lifestyle, and isn’t the life that is important to me. I’m always wavering on balance; how much to compromise, how much to hold firm to.

I generally ranted about this to J at Araya’s last night. Feeling surrounded by people that feel ‘normal’ because they feel all so similar. Couples with small children, dressed nice, talking about whatever is news these days. I feel like they’re caught up in their day. I feel their goals are what goals are supposed to be. Continuous culture shock, with a certain degree of being accustomed too, depending on my level of awareness and perspective at the moment.

My pile of books to read, and those half read, continues to grow. Conversation this winter with M about cabins and my thoughts hence has me pretty convinced, albeit disappointed, that I’m asking too much of a relationship. Plans are bubbling to the surface, as I consider the intersection of opportunities coming to a head this year. There’s a lot of work to do between then and now. As Dad says, the key to taking advantage of opportunities is putting yourself in a situation where you are prepared for them when they come along.

I have a hard time with that. I was talking to M about this, about the internal battle between knowing that I’m dating nice people, and the passion and maturity that I seem unable to find, lead to her saying to me that there are a lot of nice girls out there, but it doesn’t mean I have to date them. Talking to another friend about this, about dating people we like, who aren’t crazy (emotionally intense and asking for a lot), but aren’t in love with. You have to question falling in love with someone when it seems to pair you with someone you have such a hard time getting along with. What a challenge. I said I like challenges though, right? Well, you both have to.

As I listen to people complain about life, and I get irritated by it, I naturally wonder about how much I complain. Life isn’t all that bad. People reading though my medical reports from my accident all comment on how I shouldn’t have recovered physically or mentally, and ask me what god has to do to me to keep me down. And I wonder, if I could ever stop trying so hard.

And I remember a conversation with M about however nice talking about living out of the suburban driving around the country would be, neither of us could do it for very long without getting cabin fever.

Man, Monday wasn’t anything it was supposed to be. Oh well. Life does what it does, learn and move on.

There was some conversation lately in a volunteer organization about my ability to step up in meetings and get people back on track, and where that ability came from. Friends and I have joked about reading Parkinson’s Law, avoiding work meetings that lack agendas, etc. I got talking to J about this recently. When I was in my teens, my understanding of certain technical systems was above average for my age group. In my twenties, my understanding of certain social systems appears to be above my age group. I shook my head as we discussed this, having had a naive impression that I had aged to the point where it didn’t really matter anymore. Acceptance of this is an eye-opener, as I roll in having putting yet more above average amounts of energy for my age group into considering what I want from work, life, friendships and intimate relationships. In hindsight (I’m reading a really interesting book about hindsight lately too).

J links this to my inability to maintain a relationship since M; being unable to feel that the people I’m dating not only like me, but challenge me with who they are. Okay, maybe she likens the period to since I started dating in Seattle, and lean more on the period since M. Mom says that sometimes books find us, and I’m feeling that way with the aforementioned book on hindsight as I’m identifying with passages about forming a narrative from our pasts.

I’m excited for 2010, it’s going to be a year of change. Upon feeling that, I look back at the last few years and realize they all have been. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

Lately, I think being honest with people–dealing with bad news promptly–gets me seen as “the bitch.” It’s either that or be ineffective.

This morning when I left the house there were three folks loitering in the alley. I reported them to the police, and spent the rest of the ride to the office analyzing my prejudices. Everything about them was out of place, three young black males hanging out in the edge of my neighbors garage, likely smoking pot. A woman walked by, avoiding eye contact and when I looked at them when I rode by one stared me down. Just your usual youth, smoking dope and skipping school? Or more troublemakers? Selling drugs, casing houses? I don’t really trust the legal system to make the right choices about people, but what alternatives? Can I blame another culture for not smiling enough to invite me to ask what they’re up to? Where is the line where you can no longer pass judgment from your own shoes? How much effort do you want to expend? Can you justify the expense of mind-share or time? You’ll find people arguing for and against everything, surely. Conversations about graffiti come to mind. When are we rebelling against the norm and when do we believe that our way us ultimately better suited for us? How many people have to look, act and think the same way before it isn’t counter-culture anymore?

An Ubuntu upgrade to Lucid Beta 1 today sent me in search of a spare hard drive, which turned into a few hours very similar to reading wikipedia. I ended up with four books I never intended to buy, no lunch, and no hard drive. Eventually though, it worked out. Lucid (10.04) Beta 1 is installed and I now get to weigh bug triaging into my list of priorities. Hopefully all that was last week will be a couple more weeks before I have to confront it again.

A mostly free day is a glorious opportunity to fill it. Mom and I took the light rail to Colombia City for a nice brunch, then cleaned the house for a while. Kyle showed up and I spent a few hours helping him get started on a tallbike. A few people asked him who was going to help him, and his stories about how people acted when he told them I was made me laugh. For all intents and purposes, I’m still a dorky kid living in the woods in Maine; to be known as anything else is usually unexpected. A neighbor asked me how much it would be for me to weld some cracks in his lawnmower and when I did it and wouldn’t accept any money he mowed the lawn for me. How fucking wonderful is that? Not only do I get to poke around on the welder and got my lawn mowed, I felt great about how it worked out that way. Then over to the ARC chapter to help out in a generator test. I seemed to have the most experience with generators and be the most comfortable with the mains in the group. This made me somewhat nostalgic for Towers; walking into cold war era telecommunications buildings deep in nowhere, looking over the infrastructure and throwing together a plan for salvage operations.

I realize I haven’t written any meat in a while. J asked me recently if I wanted to still have feelings for M. I told her no, because I can’t do anything with them. Friends are definitely tired of hearing about them, and every couple of months mom reminds me that we only dated for a fraction of the time that I’ve had feelings for her. Mom and I had a long talk last night about this where she tried to point out that my feelings couldn’t possibly be for who she really is, as I wasn’t given the opportunity to discover that. While true, I came by that angle some time ago. The problem being is that I believe my thoughts and my feelings are only coupled in a raw place. My feelings can certainly be engaged by people who I feel exist and are in such a way that I think is important or meaningful. However, I don’t decide to like them or not.

A while ago I saw this dilbert comic at the EOC at ARC. At the time, I remembered the date so I could it up, but then later realized the date on a comic calendar can’t be the date the comic was first released, because you’d have to make 365 comics in advance. Duh. I saw it again tonight on another office at ARC while testing the chapter generator with a few others and took a photo this time.

Today I had a choice of doing something important that no one would ever realize, or doing something useless that would look like an accomplishment.

I was talking to Tori recently about how I rarely go other to friends houses for movies anymore. If I’m looking for down time, I’ll either see something new in the theatre or watch something at home. The only exception seems to be dates.

Talking to Mom last night, I recited the current version of my story about how difficult it is to meet people my age, especially girls with other enamoring qualities, who want to do something meaningful first and have fun second (or along the way). I proceeded to self-defend against the old M argument that I have more opportunities than others [that I haven’t created for (prepared myself to take advantage of) myself].

I can’t believe it is only Saturday.. it was a long week, dealing with the law, and I consequently felt awfully lonely. I took Friday off and spent most of it at Colin’s shop helping him build a run of bike trailers. However, drilling holes in metal leaves me too much free mental capacity to have thoughts and feelings about those who have disappeared.