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I am not sure I will be getting around to fixing comments anytime soon, if it turns out I will need to perform this fix myself. It may be months out. This is a thinker blog and not a linker blog, so it is not a heavy comment site, but today pulling up Technorati I found someone who wanted to comment but couldn't.
One thing about blogging is, you never know what will hit people. I love hearing back.
I have read a couple of interesting articles lately from some unlikely sources. One is Joe Follansbee's "The Disappearing Middle Class" which appeared in this issue of Seattle Magazine. (Link goes to table of contents only). The other is D. Parvaz's "Gentrified Street of Dreams isn't up my alley" (undoubtedly not his title) from the Seattle PI.
Backing up a bit, the Grigg family is going through its own questioning phase. In 1999, we thought it only good, right, and just to purchase a house similar to what our parents owned and go about fixing it. It seemed an expression of simple living, a reaction against living in Sammamish, a stand against modernity. It was conservative in a way only a Seattle Democrat could understand, right up there with volvos under constant repair, almaden wine in those goofy carafes, socks worn with sandals, and looking forward to your REI dividend. We wanted only safety and comfort and predictable-ness. See the problem? In reacting to the suburban options, we got ourselves into a mess where we held the same suburban values after all, in a house with some similar features to boot.
Joe Follansbee, who I used to work with, draws out a detailed picture of how certain neighborhoods in Seattle now require stunningly high incomes, where others still languish in poverty. His main point is the city's prices are out of step with incomes, when you take each on average. Underlying this information is questioning the theory that you can raise kids in the city as a homeowner... the theory that the american dream is even possible in an urban setting. The theory seems to be less and less provable. Home purchases, rather than being a natural evolution of a stable career, are now possible through one time events such as inheritance or (in our case) a stock windfall. Does someone have to die to enable the purchase of an urban home? Sometimes, literally, yes, and sometimes just figuratively, the daily death of requiring a career of grandeur to support the corresponding home. Sometimes two grand careers. But let's get personal again. How can I be pro-urban home, pro-big old fixer, pro-certain number of bedrooms and bathrooms and yet not be willing to tolerate death? The death it seems leeches out of the suburban mini mansions at both an aesthetic and a socio-cultural level? If we are all lining up for what we want, waiting patiently in imaginary lines, it seems I am standing in the wrong line, for sure.
Now, D. Parvaz has a great opinion regarding what it means to be American. Sickened by the wealth and (I infer) the isolation mentality of the home-as-fortress, he paints a different picture of the dream with the foundation being music, and lively streets and sidewalks, food, culture, and spirit. I can't speak for the country, but Seattle doesn't really do this except in bursts... various street fairs and festivals, parades, farmer's markets. You can't count on walking outside and lapping up culture. I, for one, have lived in one of the "mired in poverty" areas illustrated in the Seattle Magazine article and the only thing you could count on walking outside was a hospitable look from the drug dealer wondering when I would give in and start using already. To have perpetual inclusive culture outside your door is noisy, and dirty, and often seems not worth it. Of course everything is strange in this country where people do not know how to create a village. I know this via theory only.
It is unknown for us, what it means to own a home and raise kids in an urban setting without selling out. We have tried renting the house and getting some financial relief that way. We have tried refinancing and bargaining with the mortgage company but we really do have a good mortgage right now. It's irrational, but every lick of housework I do I blame on the house itself, as if we had a smaller house the kitchen would grow less dishes and the bed would need fewer sheets. When I stumble on a property for sale in a new condo complex, I linger over the poster and it's only a 1 bedroom, and of course completely impossible, but still. We could buy it for cash after selling the big place and somehow, be different people. Less dead. Instead of envisioning a growing community that is centered on the home, instead of bringing people into a home that we personally own and run, we would grow community by leaving home practically constantly, just for a break from the narrow space between the walls.
Without romanticizing that fantasy too much, it's clear that living for the house is not something we want to do anymore. Maybe the answer to urban living is simply to not focus on the home at all. Maybe urban living is knowing the times of the book readings, the routes of the buses, the playgroups, the cafes, the tiny computers nimble to get online, the stopping by other people's places, the sporting events, the shows, the chefs. Maybe there isn't an answer for what to do with the home itself... the forces of urbanity and kids being in such opposition as to not be resolvable.
For someone with a non-addictive personality, I sure do study addiction a lot. Addiction is not quite the correct word for it, more correct is the broader concept of impulse control. Then, beneath that, what are our impulses to start with? An impulse is a desire for a behavior, of which the desire itself is involuntary, compulsive, or automatic. The behavior may or may not be inevitable, but the impulse itself definitely is. Impulses range from personal (unique to you only), shared (common across a set of people whom you may or may not be introduced to), and societal (broadly applicable to the people in your environment). Here are some examples:
Personal: Turning off the TV whenever, within a single commercial block, a commercial is repeated.
Shared: To cure stage-fright, imagining the audience in their underwear.
Societal: Have a drink or two after a hard day at work.
Three sets of materials that have consumed me over the past decade, I realized this morning, have a topical intersection in this area of impulse control. I could spend a year teasing it all out, but let's say the study of all three in regards to explaining why impulse control can sometimes be poor, hypothesizing how impulse control could possibly be increased, and negating completely the need for this control in the first place, can be equally consuming.
David Foster Wallace "Infinite Jest." Yes, this is a novel, but one regarding addiction and one which gently teases the reader's aesthetics into a place where the control, then the impulse, then the reader themselves are questioned. It is a drowning, a borrowing of extreme experiences that lend to the reader a certain firsthand wisdom in the matter.
Eckhart Tolle "The Power of Now." A philosophical text which socratically supports the reader from all directions like a corset. What is presented is not a theory, but the simple fact that anticipation and dread are opinions, neither helpful nor true, that we take as truth and use to guide our every action, healthy or no. That our adherence to this truth is unyielding despite the evidence it does not perform for us. And further, that this truth is not just personal, but shared and societal, perhaps even global. It is the flawed premise of humanity.
Laurel Mellin "The Pathway." The program (which I am on, disclaimer) does not unpack the impulses or ask why. It instructs you to behave and think in a way that renders the impulses ineffective. Rather than addressing why we are this way, why humanity is this way, and how our philosophy (Tolle) and aesthetics (Wallace) elevate those impulses to practically the realm of physics, we are instructed to simply behave differently and relax once those impulses change or disappear. In a sense, in my opinion, this is the ultimate proof that you can fake it until you make it. To which I cannot help but observe perhaps faking has received a bad rap.
At any rate, the roots of our impulses form not a large part of the empathy I bring to users of software I have a role in creating. Rest assured I will never be so enlightened that I will fail to empathize with that shared group.
If you're looking for an unofficial job posting at Microsoft, searching for the hiring or job keyword on the msdn communities site (read: external facing blogs by people already at Microsoft) will get a good set of results.
I am repeating posting this link because my keyword usage was too oblique last time.
Being someone in a sort of a life transition type of spot, I thought I would take the time to rework my folders in my newsreader. The previous content was somewhat work-related and I needed a pivot. It took 2 hours and was totally not my fault, but I am not sure what technology component to blame, software, hardware, carpal tunnel, etc. At any rate, the following folder structure made sense to me:
Fashion - Yes, I read some fashion blogs. Lot of good it does me. Anyway.
Microsoft B List - This is the set of blogs by microsoft employees that merit occasional but not daily reads. Not an insult. Really.
My A List - A short list of people I know personally (such as, can call in the middle of the night type of thing. Not that I do that a lot.) Or, they are writers or prolific folks funny enough that for some reason I care about their lives even though I don't know them. Or, people who have commented in this blog like, ever (back when comments were working - sorry about that - hopefully fixed soon). Also, there are some strategic subscriptions in there. The point of my A list is if I have only 10 minutes I would feel updated and amused looking at these feeds only.
Productivity - This is a new experiment with ghettoizing productivity blogs so I don't cut short my jogging sessions with buying new shoes. That's a famous metaphor, perhaps not all that famous, but the idea is it is more fun to buy running shoes than it is to go running. This is why the ghettoization might be useful. An experiment.
Writers - These are folks who are affiliated with old school media. People with actual paper books or journalists on newsstands.
Alphabet City - A small set of folders such as A-D, E-H, etc, for feeds that I could not categorize as above. The alphabetical thing helps because I want to grab a readable pile in one chunk, and the whole alphabet is too big.
This entire process was just to categorize existing feeds. I now need to go and acquire new feeds according to what will help me in my next mission. Perhaps it will go the other way around, the feeds I acquire will determine the mission. We will see.
Coming home from Disney was pretty astonishing. Mind you understand that while we were gone, we had vacationers in our home that helped fund the trip. So squeezed in between the car seats of the back seat of our station wagon, I rode home to find the power was out. Immediately I assumed I had not paid the bill. I knew we were behind, one thing that happens when you say goodbye to a paycheck is you also give yourself some more time to pay certain bills than you ordinarily would. Just in case. Anyway it appeared that I had messed up, that the deadline had passed, and that the power had been cut off due to nonpayment. I was pretty beside myself. We looked at how clean the house was, the flowers in the vase, and grabbed a box to throw food from the fridge. We were going to Mom and Dad's until I could get the utilities turned back on. Curious that things were still cold in the fridge. But no matter, off we went. Coming home turned out to be not coming home at all. We made do. At least, until I wondered where my computer was.
Around 9pm we had scoured everyplace we had been since leaving the airport and realized the bag with all the electronics (which was my dh's carry-on) did not make it out of the airport. This included my crappy computer, my crappy walkman which plays CDs, my parent's camera because we could not find our own, stuff like that. We found a jumbo flashlight and off went my dh, first to our house which we expected to be pitch black but wasn't (huh? oh well the least of our worries now), then to the airport. There at baggage claim behind the counter sat the carry-on, all our stuff in it, with a little list for claiming it. A christmas miracle. Meanwhile, back at my Mom and Dad's I had not yet entered the 7 stages of grief over losing my computer, my one job search tool I can count on, during this pivotal time. I had not yet even entered denial. I was all: find it. Period. Nothing like sleeping at your folks's house to turn you into a child all over again.
What else was happening - oh yes. I have some very expensive shoes and fancy insoles for days on my feet, because I have several different kinds of chronic foot problems which I won't go into too much here, aren't you lucky. Anyway, it's time for another pair of expensive shoes because those have had their day. So in addition to feeling completely ashamed for burying our renters in darkness cutting off their electricity, and grief from losing our computer and all that good stuff, I was having waves of foot pain driving me to take a cocktail of "may cause dizziness" type medications which were originally prescribed for different ailments altogether. Still haven't recovered from that one.
Anyway, the feet are drugged, the backpack is found with the computer in it, and what do you know but there was a bona fide power outage which was not my fault in the slightest. Had nothing to do with the bill. That was me coming home from Disney, a little bit of harsh reality but then a soft landing.
3 days into my post-infospace freedom (well, after the splurgey vacation) and only now have I started to create a healing environment where the inner judges have quieted down from their usual clamor. Everyone knows how hard I worked the past few months and how there would need to be recovery time from that even without a change in paycheck status. (In this instance, the paycheck status is changing from paycheck=check to paycheck=nope). It's just funny how when you expect everything to go wrong sometimes it actually does. I am looking forward to "real" life now, whatever that turns out to mean.
Highlights from yesterday include
- lying down on the pavement in front of the castle, the day's heat radiating through my tired muscles, counting the few remaining LA stars while waiting for the fireworks
- the fireworks, really much better than any 4th of july
- the parade, specifically the acrobats on the lion king float
- a meal at the restaurant on the porch that the pirates of the carribean ride goes beneath. I must describe
- crab cakes with mango avocado salsa and endive
- gorgeous sourdough bread
- unlimited iced tea
- portabello mushroom stack with couscous and scallop potatoes, all with a balsamic butter type sauce
- a chocolate chip cookie with no line and surprisingly yummy especially when eaten in air conditioning
- splash mountain, deciding to close my eyes after all
- not needing dinner
- not being able to stay awake for supposed grownup time after 9pm
- another long 10 hours of sleep
This morning, the three Ps, pack, pool, plane. It will be nice to get back into our house and see what the renters left for us.
OK so I figured out which way the hotel room was pointing. It's right over downtown disney, which is not a place you pay for in order to shop. It is a free-ish place to shop for full price, not unlike an outdoor mall. Still, it's very funny how the old fashioned pedestrian based environments need to be simulated for us, and even in the simulation it works. Street performers, pretzel stands, it all works even if all we know from our own childhoods are strip malls and parking lots.
Today we sent the big boys to the theme park while I sat back and enjoyed the hotel with the "baby." The Grand Californian is the more expensive and more grownup hotel, compared to Paradise Pier. In the great hall, which is what we call our living room at home by the way, you can find non-white and non-heterosexual and even non-kid-toting couples enjoying wine and conversation. Nevertheless, I trucked around with the youngun and tried to figure out which way was up. He has a way of running on concrete outside the pool that makes his little michelin man rolls jiggle completely un-self consciously. Had great conversation with some folks by the kiddie pool. Refused to order an 8 dollar drink, opting instead for my imported vegetable juice spiked with hotel ice cubes in a complimentary "pump it up kirkland" water bottle. Drank maybe 64 ounces of vaguely nutritious liquid, getting up to pee 6 hours later. I know you are curious so I am telling you this information. Southern Cal is a desert and your body will know it before you do. Occasional pausing to grease up the kid with 50 sunblock. A little like basting a turkey, goes on real quick.
Tomorrow, the mission will be to do the traditional disneyland trip with the whole family. The first stop will be a character breakfast, me and the oldest, at Paradise Pier with Lilo and Stitch. While that is happening, my dh will take the youngest to the best of the California Adventure park for 2 year olds which is a series of water features with the bugs life theme. After that, head to disneyland and get a fastpass for splash mountain. See the main street parade, and take a picture at the same spot I had my own picture taken in 1978. Then back to the hotel for a siesta, at which time I hope to enjoy actual cuisine from the Napa Rose restaurant in the hotel, just by myself, likely take-out. All my vegis from the food 4 less grocery store (a 15 dollar cab ride, totally worth it if just for the wine) got frozen in the too-enthusiastic fridge so I will take it as fate that I am to eat out for the remainder of the trip instead of being thrifty with grocery store snacks. After my single person culinary splurge, we will return to disneyland and catch the evening fireworks and performances. It will be a late night. Fly out the next morning.
So far I am not sure what to recommend to do the ultimate disneyland vacation for a family with these age children. What I do know so far is to respond to your own needs, don't eat french fries without thinking about it, and try to be selectively thrifty to alleviate your conscience if you have one in this matter. The things that have helped me the most so far are:
- grocery shopping the first night
- the fridge, even though it is just good for beverages apparently
- no 2 or 3 day park hoppers for me. Single day, single park, don't pay up for the privilege of being exhausted thankyou verymuch
- have your own wine supply
- bring vegetable juice from home and use it to offset the nutritional crisis
- LAN internet access is great and works better than any other hotel I have stayed in, which admittedly is not many
- organizing the hotel room and the items within it is curiously relaxing
- siestas are very important
Things I will do next time
- try to get some sort of package for the hotel, rumor is AAA has good ones, and don't be so fixated on the specific hotel
- find a way to get a babysitter together as Grand Californian only offers babysitting for ages 5 and up
If you ever have to set an enddate with an employer, make sure and do it just before a great conversation piece. Like a trip to disneyland.
That's right, if you are paying attention to my plazes location, I have just claimed disneyland grand californian resort as a "plaze" and I still can't find my hotel room without a map. Ah, technology.
Our hotel room is such that if we were adept at jumping out our window, we would be inside the grand californian theme park. Specifically, at a location which has a bar and a cutesy shop and a band. I am not sure whether this is representative of the park yet. The band is not bad, however, it is 10pm. The environment they have manufactured is ok, but makes me wonder why people would spend 59 bucks to have an environment simulated for them that allows them to spend money. However that is not the right attitude for disney. One must be in a place to admire the simulation. As in all digital mediums, simulation works best when simulating something manufactured, such as a bug's life, or toy story. You can't simulate old world europe. Hard to simulate noise.
Anyway, it has been a very stressful few months and especially weeks. To get on a plane and expect to "relax" on queue is preposterous. I feel the need for a project. The one I am attempting tomorrow may include, trying not to spend every cent in my wallet, or trying to live off of the vegetable juice I brought which includes never eating at the hotel "snack bar" again. It's all fun and games until you realize you just spent $30 on zero nutrition and stomachaches for four. The other side is, how quickly can one person go from stress queen to one-with-the-vacation. Yes, please charge it to my room. Oh you do offer a 90 minute massage? And yes, why not the park hopper, you never know I might feel like walking a hundred miles in one day.
Anyway, stay tuned, the magic will unfold, and possibly we will sleep before the band finishes up.