Never before have I referred to anything as "tha bomb." It's just not normal. But after the flipshit week of clusterfuck calls and absent-minded everything, my mind is at rest to this recording and it's.. tha bomb.
The Orientalist fuses Tibetan monk chants & throat singing with hideous break beats, ripped dub tracks cut with aggression, while managing to dingle and dangle with primitive percussion to round out the highs. The bass kicks hard and it's... rolling me into my weekend.
Love was in short supply this week.
It started out with a call from my mom in the ER with an irregular heartbeat. The doctor considered it a withdrawal symptom from the vicodin. I sat with her in the room for a couple hours before her heartrate came down. She was a nurse before mucho madness happened and now she's particularly good at paying excessive attention to her own symptoms. What can you do? She's trained in the science of healing and she's in a state that requires her to sit inside all day, every day.
Anyway, I got her home after making sure I understood the doctor's orders better than she did. She ended up getting to bed that night and... the email the next day injected some nice humor into a generally lackluster week.
The next morning I got an email about how she had gotten home the night previous and had taken her Ambien to sleep. Apparently, shortly after taking the medication, she got up and got a bowl of cereal... shredded wheat to be exact. However, instead of getting the milk, she grabbed the chocolate syrup. She was inevitably unable to do anything alongside the strength of the medication and ended up passing out in her bed in a pool of chocolate syrup. She wrote the next morning and described the scene. In a response from my isolated desk, I responded, "There are worse ways to spend your days than rolling around in bed in chocolate syrup." Anyway, it was a good laugh. The only other humor in the week was Corey Ann's post about hating war.
The next night I was tending to Mom again. A generally morose tone assumed my attention as I just faded through the rest of the week. I still don't know what's actually happened between today and four days ago. My mom was on her back in the ER and... did I work? 46 hours of work must have taken place somewhere in there. I don't know. I'm back blogging to people who might or might not listen while planning how to spend my next 48 hours.
I didn't get to trade at all. I think I ended the week up 7%. I'm generally discontented when I don't get to trade.
GBPJPY has turned and the Euro might have topped out. GBPJPY moved 3.4% yesterday. It bottomed out at 140, as I had anticipated three weeks ago, and just decided to stand up today. It hasn't moved like that since this time last year during the financial debacle. But this time, it moved in the opposite direction.
I've finally gotten almost everything I need automated. While working full time, I'm not able to have an actual idea of what the market's done over the course of a given day. I've taken my non-technical time to figure out how to export all the price data so I can get a snapshot of market sentiment at any given time. I've got 15 page spreadsheets I update every night and scripts to generate price ammortization over a given period.
So I don't know what I'm going to do over the weekend. So far I got off work late, as usual, but was able to get home to new stuff on the computer. I'll be going out riding again this Saturday morning with a coworker, one of the developers up at work. I met him today and he seems pretty cool. We're gonna ride the 20m route I did last weekend.
I thought about going to the Elephant Room tonight but ended up getting some Guinness and coming on back. I'm watching movies on justin.tv and just got rid of a pizza that was offending me. I have a fantastic knack for getting rid of culinary company that's overstayed its welcome. I just eat it. Simple fix. I wish humans tasted that good.
I had a dream last night of my high school sweetheart. She was with some other guy and I was generally unhappy about it. Truth is, I lied to her when I was 16 and told her she was the first girl I had ever kissed. Only two people know that's the case.
It's supposed to get cold here in the not-too-distant future. I don't know what to make of it.
Recently I've been getting these painfully realistic, euphoric sensations that remind me of a calmer time in a calmer place. I used to spend clearer moments in places much more beautiful than this. Places that allow silence to flourish and humane consideration to infect willingly. The trees were taller, the land was greener and the air was kindly cleaner. There was moss on the ground to cushion a fall or to serve as a mattress after a long day of relentless love, humor or happiness... the tools of the youthful trade. The people spoke with intelligence and the birds sang with enthusiasm. This seems much too far away. After I started meditating a few years ago, I began to consider memories of friends to be legitimate emotional interactions with a purpose. This has gotten me through days otherwise too quiet for productivity. I'm generally too trusting, but that's always been my nature. Maybe that's why I don't talk very much. It gets me in trouble. I have to continue to believe the people who have impacted my life stop to think about me just as often as I do them.
I'll pass the time this evening by jamming to dub and taking comfort in the fact that some people aren't called to action until late in their life. Every day is a battle. The persistent, curious tinkering of relentless minds has done more to further mankind than any other human activity. The mind races for a reason. It must.
>> "Tibetan monks playing fuzzy bass tablas" on 1000 Sounds Lotus by The Orientalist
October 15, 2009
October 10, 2009
Stretchy
Today provided yet another flurry in the realm of physical engagement.
I did, in fact, trip awkwardly into the work week. I drooled through it but not before writing a letter to the VP on the general state of things. It seems to have been decently well-received.
Allow me, for a moment, to dropkick any further elaboration on things work-related right out the window.
I got all restless last Wednesday and indulged myself. I drove to the sports store right after work and did something I hadn't done in 10 years. I found myself a pair of soccer shoes.
I walked out of the store with a perfectly stupid grin on my face while celebrating my new-found treasure: a pair of Adidas cleats and a shiny new ball :) You would have thought I had won the lottery. I was that guy, walking at pace while making sure to smile forcefully at everything and everyone. I was rather comfortably that guy.
I wore the cleats all night Wednesday and actually considered wearing them to work the next day to break them in. The next afternoon, I got off work early specifically so I could get out and relive my childhood for a few hours. I threw the cleats and ball into my backpack and peddled down to Zilker Park.
Zilker is, once again, destroyed. The 60,000 people who came out for the music festival last weekend completely ruined the multi-million dollar renovation finished no more than three months ago. The grounds were covered by a mass of mud and brown grass, a far cry from the acres of green grass the city so meticulously planted and nursed along. I saw it again today and crews were pumping standing water out manually to try to let [what's left of] the grass breathe again. It's very disappointing. I can't imagine how the city planning committee feels about it. "Who needs a budget when we have all this mud?"
Alright. So I rolled down to Zilker Park that afternoon with my backpack exploding with soccer gear. I must have looked pretty ridiculous (as I usually do). When I saw that the crews were still repairing the fields and removing the festival equipment, I headed over to the little field across the street. I think it's actually an overflow area for the river but... they must have used it in some capacity for the festival. They were still working on removing some small tents there. And there were outlines in the grass from larger structures that had been employed over the weekend.
I took off all my riding gear and tossed it next to my bike in the middle of the field. Then I donned my cleats with indisputable expertise :) I actually did lace them in the store with my eyes closed just to humor myself. Now, I played soccer for 13 years growing up. My touring team from the Houston suburbs won the state championship when we were 14. We were terribly awkward teens everywhere but on the soccer field. Such is adolescence.
I could only handle about an hour out in the heat. It was about 90 degrees and humid. I was like an overactive kid, kicking the ball and chasing it relentlessly. I was juggling and dribbling and punting and heading and sweating ferociously. I even took a spill once... rolled and bounced right back up before the rush hour traffic could laugh at me too too much. It was awesome. I'm happy to know my feet still work. Soccer cleats used to be my horse in battle. My feet were my weapons. With the exception of a few special occasions, not many sentiments compare to my memories of stepping onto soccer fields early in the morning while the grass was still wet. To any soccer player, there's something great about knowing after 60 or 90 minutes, not only will the game have been completely exhausting, but if all goes as planned, the team would emerge victorious.
I was pretty stinking tired after the hour out there that evening. I pedaled home and... probably traded. I don't remember.
I ended the week up only 7% on the charts. I was reckless and projected my emotion as market sentiment that simply wasn't there. I lost on Thursday and took my gains from 27% down to 7% for the week. I was working on other stuff and didn't look at charts on Friday.
I actually went over and hung out with my mom on Friday. Her disability was finally cleared. Apparently everyone finally got all the paperwork they needed from all the different groups associated with the auto accident. She's feeling better emotionally now that there's some money coming in, but she's still physically very uncomfortable. She's coming off of vicodin and it's highly unpleasant. She's not a big person and had been taking 3 a day for nerve pain in her neck. She dropped down to 1 a day and has apparently been in pretty shitty shape because of it. She found some new doctors who know how to deal with it. Now that she has something to help her sleep, she at least has the energy to deal with the detox a little better.
When I left her apartment, I ran a bunch of errands. Like one of Pavlov's pooches after a fantastic meal, I went right back to the same sports store.
So I've been riding my Schwinn Le Tour around town pretty regularly with my singular "gear." It's a little tricky on a couple hills around town, but it's generally really great at making sure I keep my feet spinning.
A couple weeks ago, a coworker posted a new riding group which apparently is an established group that rides every week in full cycling garb. I expressed interest and was expecting to jump in line this morning. So yesterday I returned to the sports store and did what I told myself I would never ever do. I bought spandex: long sleeve shirt and pants. Hell yes. I feel like I can slip through a keyhole when I'm wearin em. So now I've graduated to the level of exercise that absolutely requires you to look like a socially inept, overactive athlete with way too much free time on the weekends. Fits me to a "t," I think.
I wore them all night last night while I tuned up my bike and was just in awe of their awesome texture and... stretchiness. It made my freaking day. For a puny worm such as myself, I felt ripped and particularly dangerous :)
I tinkered with my chain for a bit and made some lemonade with honey for the ride. Then I tried to get as much sleep as possible. I knew the start and end points and discerned the most probable route. I'd never ridden this far on a bike in one sitting and had couldn't remember the terrain. But I said to myself, "I'm wearing a spandex suit. I can do anything."
I got up and was at the rendezvous point in full, stretchy gear at 9am. But no one showed up. I called Mr. Man and he said the group had inadvertently cancelled the ride this morning and he was unable to contact me. Just the same, I rode.
I stripped down to my nude glory and bolted out of the gates. I rode 20m in 80 minutes and even found a way to cram my phone into my sleeve so I could play my music :) There were only a couple hills that gave me trouble but it was overall a good route. There wasn't much traffic and the weather was nice.
I've just been workin on charts and watching movies this evening. I scratched the guitar and tried to take a nap but Johnny's bizarre music kept me regrettably conscious. I ended up doing laundry and playing with computerstuffs.
And here I go... into another week to work my tail off. I want to go to Bocas del Toro but not alone. If anyone feels like going for a week this winter to sit on a beach and be as lazy as humanly possible, let me know. The dry season starts in mid-December. Should you be a single, smart and particularly awesome woman, all the better.
>> "Ardi Build Half of LA" on "Lychee Queen" by Bumcello
I did, in fact, trip awkwardly into the work week. I drooled through it but not before writing a letter to the VP on the general state of things. It seems to have been decently well-received.
Allow me, for a moment, to dropkick any further elaboration on things work-related right out the window.
I got all restless last Wednesday and indulged myself. I drove to the sports store right after work and did something I hadn't done in 10 years. I found myself a pair of soccer shoes.
I walked out of the store with a perfectly stupid grin on my face while celebrating my new-found treasure: a pair of Adidas cleats and a shiny new ball :) You would have thought I had won the lottery. I was that guy, walking at pace while making sure to smile forcefully at everything and everyone. I was rather comfortably that guy.
I wore the cleats all night Wednesday and actually considered wearing them to work the next day to break them in. The next afternoon, I got off work early specifically so I could get out and relive my childhood for a few hours. I threw the cleats and ball into my backpack and peddled down to Zilker Park.
Zilker is, once again, destroyed. The 60,000 people who came out for the music festival last weekend completely ruined the multi-million dollar renovation finished no more than three months ago. The grounds were covered by a mass of mud and brown grass, a far cry from the acres of green grass the city so meticulously planted and nursed along. I saw it again today and crews were pumping standing water out manually to try to let [what's left of] the grass breathe again. It's very disappointing. I can't imagine how the city planning committee feels about it. "Who needs a budget when we have all this mud?"
Alright. So I rolled down to Zilker Park that afternoon with my backpack exploding with soccer gear. I must have looked pretty ridiculous (as I usually do). When I saw that the crews were still repairing the fields and removing the festival equipment, I headed over to the little field across the street. I think it's actually an overflow area for the river but... they must have used it in some capacity for the festival. They were still working on removing some small tents there. And there were outlines in the grass from larger structures that had been employed over the weekend.
I took off all my riding gear and tossed it next to my bike in the middle of the field. Then I donned my cleats with indisputable expertise :) I actually did lace them in the store with my eyes closed just to humor myself. Now, I played soccer for 13 years growing up. My touring team from the Houston suburbs won the state championship when we were 14. We were terribly awkward teens everywhere but on the soccer field. Such is adolescence.
I could only handle about an hour out in the heat. It was about 90 degrees and humid. I was like an overactive kid, kicking the ball and chasing it relentlessly. I was juggling and dribbling and punting and heading and sweating ferociously. I even took a spill once... rolled and bounced right back up before the rush hour traffic could laugh at me too too much. It was awesome. I'm happy to know my feet still work. Soccer cleats used to be my horse in battle. My feet were my weapons. With the exception of a few special occasions, not many sentiments compare to my memories of stepping onto soccer fields early in the morning while the grass was still wet. To any soccer player, there's something great about knowing after 60 or 90 minutes, not only will the game have been completely exhausting, but if all goes as planned, the team would emerge victorious.
I was pretty stinking tired after the hour out there that evening. I pedaled home and... probably traded. I don't remember.
I ended the week up only 7% on the charts. I was reckless and projected my emotion as market sentiment that simply wasn't there. I lost on Thursday and took my gains from 27% down to 7% for the week. I was working on other stuff and didn't look at charts on Friday.
I actually went over and hung out with my mom on Friday. Her disability was finally cleared. Apparently everyone finally got all the paperwork they needed from all the different groups associated with the auto accident. She's feeling better emotionally now that there's some money coming in, but she's still physically very uncomfortable. She's coming off of vicodin and it's highly unpleasant. She's not a big person and had been taking 3 a day for nerve pain in her neck. She dropped down to 1 a day and has apparently been in pretty shitty shape because of it. She found some new doctors who know how to deal with it. Now that she has something to help her sleep, she at least has the energy to deal with the detox a little better.
When I left her apartment, I ran a bunch of errands. Like one of Pavlov's pooches after a fantastic meal, I went right back to the same sports store.
So I've been riding my Schwinn Le Tour around town pretty regularly with my singular "gear." It's a little tricky on a couple hills around town, but it's generally really great at making sure I keep my feet spinning.
A couple weeks ago, a coworker posted a new riding group which apparently is an established group that rides every week in full cycling garb. I expressed interest and was expecting to jump in line this morning. So yesterday I returned to the sports store and did what I told myself I would never ever do. I bought spandex: long sleeve shirt and pants. Hell yes. I feel like I can slip through a keyhole when I'm wearin em. So now I've graduated to the level of exercise that absolutely requires you to look like a socially inept, overactive athlete with way too much free time on the weekends. Fits me to a "t," I think.
I wore them all night last night while I tuned up my bike and was just in awe of their awesome texture and... stretchiness. It made my freaking day. For a puny worm such as myself, I felt ripped and particularly dangerous :)
I tinkered with my chain for a bit and made some lemonade with honey for the ride. Then I tried to get as much sleep as possible. I knew the start and end points and discerned the most probable route. I'd never ridden this far on a bike in one sitting and had couldn't remember the terrain. But I said to myself, "I'm wearing a spandex suit. I can do anything."
I got up and was at the rendezvous point in full, stretchy gear at 9am. But no one showed up. I called Mr. Man and he said the group had inadvertently cancelled the ride this morning and he was unable to contact me. Just the same, I rode.
I stripped down to my nude glory and bolted out of the gates. I rode 20m in 80 minutes and even found a way to cram my phone into my sleeve so I could play my music :) There were only a couple hills that gave me trouble but it was overall a good route. There wasn't much traffic and the weather was nice.
I've just been workin on charts and watching movies this evening. I scratched the guitar and tried to take a nap but Johnny's bizarre music kept me regrettably conscious. I ended up doing laundry and playing with computerstuffs.
And here I go... into another week to work my tail off. I want to go to Bocas del Toro but not alone. If anyone feels like going for a week this winter to sit on a beach and be as lazy as humanly possible, let me know. The dry season starts in mid-December. Should you be a single, smart and particularly awesome woman, all the better.
>> "Ardi Build Half of LA" on "Lychee Queen" by Bumcello
October 02, 2009
102%
While magically making a pizza disappear a moment ago, I was struck by an awesome truth of this, my global existence:
I'm in the middle of Texas. I'm eating Italian food that was built to last for no less than a decade when stored at the right temperature. I'm listening to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra perform Hungarian piano concertos by way of a public radio station in Vermont over the internet. Such a mixture of influence and personal consumption made me especially happy for a moment and I thought it should be recorded in some capacity.
Well this was generally a good week. I didn't get a great deal of sleep because I was up most nights watching my trades. It looks like my nickels and dimes (literally) have paid off.
After revising my risk to a more aggressive approach while targeting smaller fluctuations against larger trends, I doubled my account in September: 102% gain in 25 trading days with an 86% win ratio. I took the rest of last week off and haven't looked at a chart in about 36 hours. I traded gbpjpy almost exclusively on Asian open. I maintained discipline and if another trade presented itself after the first, I did the right thing consistently and traded half or a quarter of the position and promptly forgot about it. It's about to turn into work again, but it's a necessary addition to this kind, low-key existence. Tomorrow I'll update my COT reports and work on the charts for a little (long) while before tripping awkwardly into the forthcoming workweek. 100% return in 25 days. Now if I can just do that ten or fifteen more times...
We had a great cold front come through last night and it turned into genuine fall weather around here. I woke up plainly cold after the air conditioner ran all night. I think it was about 60 this morning when I woke up, but I just wasn't motivated enough to check the temperature directly. After the week I had, I was reluctant to do much more than scratch myself when I woke up today. I'm also generally just a little disappointed to see the cold weather come back. Living in Texas, a person gets used to sweating. And I've done my best to incorporate it into my life insofar as I simply expect it to be hot outside. It's true we move just a little slower down here in the South. The only way to come to terms with the heat is to relax and keep your heart rate where it needs to be. I also think it's best to break a sweat once a day. I think the biological response is sort of like a mental and physical reboot.
My roommate just left. He has dead bikes and drums all over the place and won't goddamn bathe his dog. He did, however, start to flush the toilet after using it... apparently to the direct detriment of children without drinking water around the world. I'm ready for him to be gone.
My pizza was spectacular.
I'm writing this on my tablet! I got it back yesterday and spent all night and morning setting it up. After setting everything up just how I wanted it on my 120gb drive, it failed and I had to do it all over again on the OEM drive. It was tedious but not too bad. I might actually do all my... yeah. I'm gonna do my charting somewhere around town tomorrow.
Had I not squandered my social life so efficiently over the last few years, I might have known Austin City Limits was happening before today. There are a few reasons I would have considered going. First, there's new grass. The recent rain has probably helped it take root considerably well and it should do just fine through the weekend. Next, looking at this year's sponsor list, it looks like Mr. Attal and C3 did it again by selling the local companies. AMD, Dell, Austin (Capital) Ventures and HEB probably carried the brunt of the bill. This is also probably one of, if not the only, major marketing efforts they'll make in Austin (and maybe Texas altogether) all year. I wouldn't be surprised if C3 had to prop up the budget a little on their own. They're bringing some big names and... it'd be interesting to see what Dave Matthews is charging. I doubt they get out of bed for less than $400 or $500k. Lenny Kravitz and Kid Rock don't play for less than a million. Madonna and JayZ, $1.25m. It's such a farce. I get more satisfaction from playing Faure's Pavane on a dumpy classical guitar than any amount of exorbitant production and glamour at a show like ACL. But I digress.
The only bands I'd like to see are Medeski, Martin and Wood, Mos Def and Pearl Jam. I learned how to play the drums with Pearl Jam and Sublime way back when :) Coheed and Cambria and Ben Harper might be fun to see, but I can only take one or two songs by either of them in one sitting. I don't need to see DMB anymore. If I need a DMB fix, I just watch some Carter Beauford videos on YouNube. I think I'll be just as content staring at charts and jamming to Banco de Gaia in my headphones tomorrow.
>> "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2" by Franz Liszt
I'm in the middle of Texas. I'm eating Italian food that was built to last for no less than a decade when stored at the right temperature. I'm listening to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra perform Hungarian piano concertos by way of a public radio station in Vermont over the internet. Such a mixture of influence and personal consumption made me especially happy for a moment and I thought it should be recorded in some capacity.
Well this was generally a good week. I didn't get a great deal of sleep because I was up most nights watching my trades. It looks like my nickels and dimes (literally) have paid off.
After revising my risk to a more aggressive approach while targeting smaller fluctuations against larger trends, I doubled my account in September: 102% gain in 25 trading days with an 86% win ratio. I took the rest of last week off and haven't looked at a chart in about 36 hours. I traded gbpjpy almost exclusively on Asian open. I maintained discipline and if another trade presented itself after the first, I did the right thing consistently and traded half or a quarter of the position and promptly forgot about it. It's about to turn into work again, but it's a necessary addition to this kind, low-key existence. Tomorrow I'll update my COT reports and work on the charts for a little (long) while before tripping awkwardly into the forthcoming workweek. 100% return in 25 days. Now if I can just do that ten or fifteen more times...
We had a great cold front come through last night and it turned into genuine fall weather around here. I woke up plainly cold after the air conditioner ran all night. I think it was about 60 this morning when I woke up, but I just wasn't motivated enough to check the temperature directly. After the week I had, I was reluctant to do much more than scratch myself when I woke up today. I'm also generally just a little disappointed to see the cold weather come back. Living in Texas, a person gets used to sweating. And I've done my best to incorporate it into my life insofar as I simply expect it to be hot outside. It's true we move just a little slower down here in the South. The only way to come to terms with the heat is to relax and keep your heart rate where it needs to be. I also think it's best to break a sweat once a day. I think the biological response is sort of like a mental and physical reboot.
My roommate just left. He has dead bikes and drums all over the place and won't goddamn bathe his dog. He did, however, start to flush the toilet after using it... apparently to the direct detriment of children without drinking water around the world. I'm ready for him to be gone.
My pizza was spectacular.
I'm writing this on my tablet! I got it back yesterday and spent all night and morning setting it up. After setting everything up just how I wanted it on my 120gb drive, it failed and I had to do it all over again on the OEM drive. It was tedious but not too bad. I might actually do all my... yeah. I'm gonna do my charting somewhere around town tomorrow.
Had I not squandered my social life so efficiently over the last few years, I might have known Austin City Limits was happening before today. There are a few reasons I would have considered going. First, there's new grass. The recent rain has probably helped it take root considerably well and it should do just fine through the weekend. Next, looking at this year's sponsor list, it looks like Mr. Attal and C3 did it again by selling the local companies. AMD, Dell, Austin (Capital) Ventures and HEB probably carried the brunt of the bill. This is also probably one of, if not the only, major marketing efforts they'll make in Austin (and maybe Texas altogether) all year. I wouldn't be surprised if C3 had to prop up the budget a little on their own. They're bringing some big names and... it'd be interesting to see what Dave Matthews is charging. I doubt they get out of bed for less than $400 or $500k. Lenny Kravitz and Kid Rock don't play for less than a million. Madonna and JayZ, $1.25m. It's such a farce. I get more satisfaction from playing Faure's Pavane on a dumpy classical guitar than any amount of exorbitant production and glamour at a show like ACL. But I digress.
The only bands I'd like to see are Medeski, Martin and Wood, Mos Def and Pearl Jam. I learned how to play the drums with Pearl Jam and Sublime way back when :) Coheed and Cambria and Ben Harper might be fun to see, but I can only take one or two songs by either of them in one sitting. I don't need to see DMB anymore. If I need a DMB fix, I just watch some Carter Beauford videos on YouNube. I think I'll be just as content staring at charts and jamming to Banco de Gaia in my headphones tomorrow.
>> "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2" by Franz Liszt
September 26, 2009
70179
70179 is the PLU code for Thompson's organic raisins at the HEB on Oltorf. I bought a pound of them last week but the mice were into them a couple hours later. I rifled out of bed when I heard them scrounging and... didn't even see them. I had to toss the whole bag.
It's been a great weekend. I found out the best way to make it an effective weekend is to pack as much in as possible.
I went out to eat with my sister and ended up crashing there Thursday night. She needed a ride to the airport early so we were up and moving at 6. I dropped her off and she presumably made it to Denver. I went back to her place in the hills and slept for three more hours before being awoken by a screaming hawk outside. It was pretty cool. When I went out on the deck, I found out it was actually a rotary saw screaming through a piece of lumber. I can't say I wasn't disappointed.
I scratched the classical guitar and washed clothes for a couple hours. Then John called me from the tablet repair shop in California to tell me all was good and the machine is fixed. Apparently a memory socket had failed and... it just seemed like a power issue. It's as good as new and the USPS is bringing it on back to Texas :) John tried to tell me that the failed socket had completely corrupted the brand new OS I had installed and that they needed to charge me an arm to reinstall it. After I informed him this was not the case, he backpeddled awkwardly, upped the price on the physical repair and then we talked about payment :) So instead of paying an arm and a leg, they made off with my leg and I'm happy about it. I ran home, updated all my PayPal info and got it done. I'll have my beloved machine back shortly :D
I checked the UT music schedule and saw there was an organ student performing his master recital at Bates. I had just enough time to pedal up to Wheatsville and grab some frito pie before running to the concert hall. I ate half of it out front and then had to get into the hall.
This was the first time I had ever actually wanted to hear organ music in person. I was not raised in a religious environment and every exposure I've had to the instrument in my life has been through some hollow, repetitive piece that just begged for an ending. Last night, however, was nice. I was bowled over by the 50 feet of pipes on the wall in front of me. The picture above is the organ in Bates Recital Hall taken on some other occasion. Some pipes sounded like MIDIsauce trinkets and others sounded like barges' horns. It was tremendous. I had an old lady sitting behind me the entire time content to clear her throat once a minute. One cell phone went off, but it was otherwise a great show. The program was varied, contemporary and ancient and not too heavy on the musical indoctrination. I found myself grinning and cringing interchangeably through an incredibly demented Bach piece, lost but for a few moments of kind melody. That freaking guy. I'm glad I went. I was underdressed and I know everyone around me was jealously aware of the frito pie in my backpack.
After taking his bows and enjoying his veritable graduation into the Masterful realm of organstuffs, he sat back down and finished with some flipshit piece that I think he might have written. I can partially understand why he performed it if it was his... some kind of personal celebration. But if it wasn't his, he should never be allowed to touch an organ again in his life. And if it was his, he should never be allowed to compose another piece for any instrument, especially the pipe organ, again in his life. What he played, what he left the audience thinking about, was easily the most disgusting collection of notes I've ever heard. There was not a single melody. There was not a single coherent statement made throughout this five minute long death of Beauty. Please bear in mind that this is coming from someone who can comfortably listen to Herbie Mann's Gagaku and Beyond. Anyway, I guess since I just went to hear sound come out of the pipes, I'm partially happy I heard what purely bad organ music sounds like. It was so fucking bad. I was reluctant to clap and acknowledge his musical accomplishments as a whole simply because he subjected his friends and family to what is easily one of the worst-assembled compositions known to mankind. I'd rather listen to 40 cats having sex in stereo. I heard someone asking him about it in the lobby after we all stumbled out of the auditorium and he said he considered it "enchanting" with a grin on his face. A goddamn volcano is enchanting but that doesn't mean you tell your friends and family to go swim in lava. Anyway, I heard a huge organ being put through its paces. Mission accomplished.
I rode on home and although I had intended to post on here last night, I started watching Bones on Hulu and was unconscious about 20m into it.
I was up around 9 today and scratched on the electric for about an hour. There's not much better than playing an electric guitar naked. You can't play a church organ naked, anyway.
**Just remembered there's a St. Vincent album I need to get.**
After the guitar, my landlord called and we talked for about 30m. I'm gonna remote into his and his mother's computers sometime this week and clean them. TeamViewer rocks like that. And earlier in the week, my roommate told me he'll be moving out. There's a freaking chance I'm gonna have the place to myself for a bit.
In my endless pursuit of Consistency, I took off on my bike again around 2 this afternoon. I needed pecans so I went to Whole Foods and got 8oz. I also got a Jonamac apple which tasted like flowers of all things. Created in Geneva, NY, the Jonamac originated from a Mclntosh x Jonathan cross made in 1944. Formerly identified as "N. Y. 44428-5," the name "Jonamac" was selected on September 21, 1955 from a population of 2,474 seedlings originally planted. Yep.
Then I rode a few miles to the Green Belt to check the water levels after all the rain. There was a lot of standing water and even a big pool down at the bottom of Campbell's Hole. It was good to see water down there. I called my mom and talked to her a bit while I ate my pecans on the rocks. There were no people there and... it was good.
I left and went down the road to the Springs and put my head under a waterfall. It was also... good. I am rich with adjectives this evening. I watched the dogs bark and swim and the kids smoke their pot on the banks. I feel sorry for anyone who's not in Austin.
After that I just pedaled home, up Bouldin (literally) and made it back successfully exhausted. Then I went to the grocery store and got all sorts of good stuff including, but not nearly limited to, 70179, Thompson's organic raisins.
I also got a Key Lime Pie and ate a quarter of it a little while ago. But I need more. I just need more key lime pie.
>> "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley
I've got another note, now. Proofreading and music kept me from the pie. You know how sometimes you hear song that make you want to throw your hands up in victory and look around the room to see if any invisible people might want to celebrate the song with you? No?
>> "The Grace" on Act I of Neverending White Lights
The strength of the song is not in the lyrics for me, and is probably therefore not too rewarding to most the first time through. I think the dynamics were mastered in the most formal sense and the song is just presented very well over the air. Jimmy Gnecco will, in fact, be on Act III which will hopefully be released later this year. That album will probably pull me up by the bootstraps and single-handedly get me through a large part of 2010.
Key Lime Pie.
Completely off topic... if you have the time, watch some of the old recordings of Van Cliburn's performances on video.google.com.
September 20, 2009
To my lady, my lady
I swear to Dirt... there is no greater thing than this time and place.
House Fire Bird by Bumcello is built by masters of sound. It starts out with a rhythmic aria, the air terraced by installments of violins and cellos comfortable with their own presence. In the back is a drummer tapping his feet with zest... his left on the hi-hat pedal and his right on the bass drum pedal. Back and forth he goes. A quick tap of a wooden block off-tempo immediately takes an American listener from what might have originally seemed like a piece written quickly for a moment of cinematic sincerity into a geographic exercise in sound. Walking right into the middle of the scene is a jazz flute, singing and humming along. It's the kind of tone and melody you'd expect to hear from a couple city blocks away in South America and wonder who the lucky people might be who could possibly be enjoying their afternoon that much.
The flute and the drums continue a romantic conversation while the wind runs through the strings in the background. The flute player almost breaks ranks and starts singing through the instrument. It spills a metallic, tubular voice clumsily into the middle of the table rich with the enthusiasms only shared by friends. Then it breaks down and the true colors come out.
A classical guitar appears on the right channel and paints the full Portuguese portrait. Complete with percussive rattles and rhythmic melodies, a serious listener realizes the futile role words actually have in the world of music. The flautist returns to singing through the instrument briefly out of sheer excitement while the group continues to chip away at a sturdy slab of Composure.
The strings come back in a step lower and pull us back underwater for a moment of reflection. Wandering back across lines written in the sand, we wonder which lines ever held any meaning in the first place. One person's revelation is another person's preoccupation. The circular sound moves with the implied certainty of a circular wind. And wooden taps let us know that there are friends behind us.
The driven pace dissipates once more and gives way to the guitarista tocando su love. Encuentra what you love about the world and the world will provide que te encantas every time. Include heritage and value in your breath and intention will inherently be both kind and sincere.
Color your surroundings with Intention and you will be known for who you really are.
To my lady, my lady... maybe you're in Brazil playing a flute somewhere.
>> "House Fire Bird" and "One Two Three" on Lychee Queen by Bumcello
House Fire Bird by Bumcello is built by masters of sound. It starts out with a rhythmic aria, the air terraced by installments of violins and cellos comfortable with their own presence. In the back is a drummer tapping his feet with zest... his left on the hi-hat pedal and his right on the bass drum pedal. Back and forth he goes. A quick tap of a wooden block off-tempo immediately takes an American listener from what might have originally seemed like a piece written quickly for a moment of cinematic sincerity into a geographic exercise in sound. Walking right into the middle of the scene is a jazz flute, singing and humming along. It's the kind of tone and melody you'd expect to hear from a couple city blocks away in South America and wonder who the lucky people might be who could possibly be enjoying their afternoon that much.
The flute and the drums continue a romantic conversation while the wind runs through the strings in the background. The flute player almost breaks ranks and starts singing through the instrument. It spills a metallic, tubular voice clumsily into the middle of the table rich with the enthusiasms only shared by friends. Then it breaks down and the true colors come out.
A classical guitar appears on the right channel and paints the full Portuguese portrait. Complete with percussive rattles and rhythmic melodies, a serious listener realizes the futile role words actually have in the world of music. The flautist returns to singing through the instrument briefly out of sheer excitement while the group continues to chip away at a sturdy slab of Composure.
The strings come back in a step lower and pull us back underwater for a moment of reflection. Wandering back across lines written in the sand, we wonder which lines ever held any meaning in the first place. One person's revelation is another person's preoccupation. The circular sound moves with the implied certainty of a circular wind. And wooden taps let us know that there are friends behind us.
The driven pace dissipates once more and gives way to the guitarista tocando su love. Encuentra what you love about the world and the world will provide que te encantas every time. Include heritage and value in your breath and intention will inherently be both kind and sincere.
Color your surroundings with Intention and you will be known for who you really are.
To my lady, my lady... maybe you're in Brazil playing a flute somewhere.
>> "House Fire Bird" and "One Two Three" on Lychee Queen by Bumcello
September 18, 2009
Weekend warrior
I got to sleep in this morning after a long week. I meandered through it comfortably and even found time to get a haircut.
I tooled around for the rest of the morning and watched the markets waddle into the weekend. I had good success on the charts this week with the British pound: 1 for 1 against the Swiss franc and 2 for 3 against the yen. The dollar generally moves inversely with the States' equity markets. The markets did well this week. When the US bailed out the Japanese banks in the 90's, the yen became closely tied to the dollar and it's been used as a commodity trade ever since (not so much in the last year, but in general). Weekly MA divergence has taken gbpjpy right down to the 200 daily MA and it'll probably press right on through the weekend. The 200 will be tested Monday and probably again on Tuesday. Hopefully the euro will break down against the dollar and let gbpjpy run down to about 140.
The mice in the house had a field day with the popcorn in the kitchen. There were kernels strewn all over the countertops and floor yesterday morning. I'm strangely alright with it. I'm just disappointed Johnny's dog isn't active enough to do anything about it. Traps are set. All I can do is wait.
I played the classical for a little while before getting restless and heading out to the front yard.
Johnny let the yards and the majority of the house fall into a state of general disrepair while he was living here alone. I know he's a smart person. He's just in a different place mentally. He wants Mark to repair things from Florida when they can be fixed with a little effort. And that's one of several reasons why Mark wants him out. Mark effectively wants to rebuild the house early next year and Johnny's response to the idea was less than encouraging. I'm not opposed to it in the least.
Anyway, I dug in and tackled a few plants out front. The neighbors' ivy had rolled both over and under the fence and blanketed most of the plants in the front corner of the yard. It felt good to get out in the dirt again. I even got to battle some old shrubs' stumps with a hatchet. I was victorious. It's a welcomed change not having to brush hair out of my face all the time now. Next week, I'll clean up the flower beds and.... everything else.
My dad's coming into town tomorrow on his way back to Houston. He and my sister and I are going to meet for food somewhere around town and enjoy the weather. It should be what most Americans would consider one of the few fine days we see here, neither hot nor cold. We get three or four in the early part of the year and usually about as many in the Fall. We still need more rain but I don't think any amount would get the water flowing before the cold hits. We'll see.
I'm getting tired of being in the city. I've been in it for a couple years now, working nonstop. I'm trying to think of things I can do to keep it changing. Maybe I'll start going up to the campus more often. I can't say I'm going to ride my bike any more often in the cold because... I prefer the heat. I should, however, have my tablet back shortly and will be able to read my ebooks again... yeah Google books :)
By the way, if you haven't seen Fast Flip, google it and... check it out.
I tooled around for the rest of the morning and watched the markets waddle into the weekend. I had good success on the charts this week with the British pound: 1 for 1 against the Swiss franc and 2 for 3 against the yen. The dollar generally moves inversely with the States' equity markets. The markets did well this week. When the US bailed out the Japanese banks in the 90's, the yen became closely tied to the dollar and it's been used as a commodity trade ever since (not so much in the last year, but in general). Weekly MA divergence has taken gbpjpy right down to the 200 daily MA and it'll probably press right on through the weekend. The 200 will be tested Monday and probably again on Tuesday. Hopefully the euro will break down against the dollar and let gbpjpy run down to about 140.
The mice in the house had a field day with the popcorn in the kitchen. There were kernels strewn all over the countertops and floor yesterday morning. I'm strangely alright with it. I'm just disappointed Johnny's dog isn't active enough to do anything about it. Traps are set. All I can do is wait.
I played the classical for a little while before getting restless and heading out to the front yard.
Johnny let the yards and the majority of the house fall into a state of general disrepair while he was living here alone. I know he's a smart person. He's just in a different place mentally. He wants Mark to repair things from Florida when they can be fixed with a little effort. And that's one of several reasons why Mark wants him out. Mark effectively wants to rebuild the house early next year and Johnny's response to the idea was less than encouraging. I'm not opposed to it in the least.
Anyway, I dug in and tackled a few plants out front. The neighbors' ivy had rolled both over and under the fence and blanketed most of the plants in the front corner of the yard. It felt good to get out in the dirt again. I even got to battle some old shrubs' stumps with a hatchet. I was victorious. It's a welcomed change not having to brush hair out of my face all the time now. Next week, I'll clean up the flower beds and.... everything else.
My dad's coming into town tomorrow on his way back to Houston. He and my sister and I are going to meet for food somewhere around town and enjoy the weather. It should be what most Americans would consider one of the few fine days we see here, neither hot nor cold. We get three or four in the early part of the year and usually about as many in the Fall. We still need more rain but I don't think any amount would get the water flowing before the cold hits. We'll see.
I'm getting tired of being in the city. I've been in it for a couple years now, working nonstop. I'm trying to think of things I can do to keep it changing. Maybe I'll start going up to the campus more often. I can't say I'm going to ride my bike any more often in the cold because... I prefer the heat. I should, however, have my tablet back shortly and will be able to read my ebooks again... yeah Google books :)
By the way, if you haven't seen Fast Flip, google it and... check it out.
September 12, 2009
Hooverphonic
There's water in the air but it's not falling anymore. It seeps up through your toes from the dirt but the ground is still very thirsty.
I don't remember what happened Thursday night. I think I just came home in my regular stupor after work and watched the markets roll into the weekend. The yen is still moving in step on the weekly charts so... gbpjpy can be sold a couple times a day. Ah... that's right. I fell asleep. I've been taking these fantastic, accidental naps when I get home in the evenings. I'll get home around 5 or 6 and watch to see how everything's moving before the Asian markets open. This past week, I found myself asleep like a dog. I need to start setting evening alarms again. I'm not even staying up late. My brain just needs to rest after hours of babysitting my customers'... my customers.
I don't want to dwell on work because it's an entirely worthless exercise. But I should say that even as a self-proclaimed optimist, I'm finding it harder and harder to chew the leather provided. And I've eaten a lot of leather. I got paid the same to sit with dogs in a yard and watch them lick eachother. Right now, I save thousands of dollars of computer equipment from being thrown away daily and I'm being compensated the same as the folks telling customers to switch the cords around to, "see if it works." That building provides all the anti-love and emotional punishment depicted in the movie Martyrs. Purported vertical movements translate into horizontal movement with greater workloads. Why those running the place don't just overhaul the entire payroll scheme to operate as a real IT company is so far beyond me. Maybe it's not even an IT company. I don't even want to think about it. I could write for days about it but they're not paying me to write. And... yep... there's the humor. I'm already writing for them... just for my own enjoyment, apparently. The main page of the company's website has grammatical errors. Company-wide, individual performance is judged on how many bear traps a person has sprung in the last month. I'm done with it. If they paid anywhere close to the industry standard, they'd be pretty goddamned surprised to see just what exactly happens which Richard gets excited about the work he's doing. Again, maybe I've just been incorrectly assuming it's an IT company because of the intricate (and exceedingly extraneous) technical knowledge required to appease angry customers. Maybe it's just a technically-oriented customer support service doing emotional damage control. Well, that's exactly what it is. The only things keeping me there are the physical location and the few older people I get to talk to in the Northeast who are still realizing the benefits of having the internet at home.
My friend Shelley and I went to see Inglourious Basterds yesterday. This was the second time I had seen it in the theaters. She hadn't seen it and... I wanted to see it again. It was just as good as the first time. It might have actually been a little better. Staying with the plot required some effort the first time around. The hardest part the second time through was maintaining my composure in the moments just before Tarantino's trademark "shock" scenes. I found myself giggling comfortably out of step with the rest of the audience after the bludgeoning/maiming/abrubpt pain. The sound on the reel was crackly and inconsistent for the first 3 minutes of the movie. But it sorted itself out and my blood pressure dropped right back in line shortly thereafter.
After the movie, Shelley opted to go up to her cousin's place way up North rather than hang out for the evening. This was entirely agreeable. She's going to move out of her Austin place shortly and just stay in Boston. She's a sweet lady but I don't think either of us were intending to take it anywhere definitive. I dropped her off and celebrated my Saturday by getting a table for one at the Spaghetti Warehouse.
I sat in a traincar as the only passenger next to a stuffy company party of some sort. I had my headphones in and basically just disappeared inside my tall glass of beer and sturdy chunk of lasagna. I gorged myself and displayed my satisfaction by scratching myself victoriously after the dust settled around the table. I'm a predatory animal. And last night, the pasta just wasn't fast enough. The cheescake was also unable to elude my cat-like, Tabletop prowess.
I've been playing with my song in my room like it's a shiny new toy. It's pretty fun. The verse breaks down and enters the chorus seemingly prematurely. It catches whoever's listening and gives me some space to play both of them a little lazily... closer to free verse than a strict tempo. It's different every time and has therefore kept me happy :)
Today I backed up all my gigs of trading stuff and looked at charts. I updated my COT sheets and reinstalled my MT4. I actually have more to do, come to think of it.
Then I did a little maintenance and reinstalled my tablet OS so I can ship it out to the repair folks later this week. I'm looking forward to being mobile again. Don't tell anybody but... for the price of a Kindle, you can get a TC1100.
I found a pretty cool Belgian band called Hooverphonic this afternoon. Actually..
Before I write more about music, I want to take a minute to write about the rain. This was easily the most rain we've gotten in Central Texas in a year. My front yard was one massive puddle. Even the dinosaurs across the street were taking shelter. It rained steadily and heavily for at least 45 minutes here and it's stayed pretty cool into the evening. It's supposed to rain a bit more tonight.
Back to music, Hooverphonic is a group out of Belgium with a trip-hop, ambient foundation and some clean female vocals on top. Their music has been used in a few movies, commercials and shows, but apparently their frontlady just left the group to pursue her own musicstuffs. I'm getting their discography as we speak so I'll have a better idea of their sound shortly. So far, it's clean, rolling and comfortable. It's light but direct with pretty decent instrumentation and colorful, classically European pop melodies.
I've not been listening to my French stations recently. I think I need to stop watching so many movies on Justin.tv and get back to freakin work. If I stop watching Jtv, I will effectively be without entertainment through the week. Jesus... my exercise will have to be my entertainment. I'm going to have to brainstorm on this. I'll write about that soon. Actually, what I really need to do is find a lady who likes to take naps after a long day and then work the rest of the night on things that make her happy. Of course, I'll have to work less to do that. Tastes like irony to me.
>> "This Is Not An Exit" on Stay What You Are by Saves the Day
I don't remember what happened Thursday night. I think I just came home in my regular stupor after work and watched the markets roll into the weekend. The yen is still moving in step on the weekly charts so... gbpjpy can be sold a couple times a day. Ah... that's right. I fell asleep. I've been taking these fantastic, accidental naps when I get home in the evenings. I'll get home around 5 or 6 and watch to see how everything's moving before the Asian markets open. This past week, I found myself asleep like a dog. I need to start setting evening alarms again. I'm not even staying up late. My brain just needs to rest after hours of babysitting my customers'... my customers.
I don't want to dwell on work because it's an entirely worthless exercise. But I should say that even as a self-proclaimed optimist, I'm finding it harder and harder to chew the leather provided. And I've eaten a lot of leather. I got paid the same to sit with dogs in a yard and watch them lick eachother. Right now, I save thousands of dollars of computer equipment from being thrown away daily and I'm being compensated the same as the folks telling customers to switch the cords around to, "see if it works." That building provides all the anti-love and emotional punishment depicted in the movie Martyrs. Purported vertical movements translate into horizontal movement with greater workloads. Why those running the place don't just overhaul the entire payroll scheme to operate as a real IT company is so far beyond me. Maybe it's not even an IT company. I don't even want to think about it. I could write for days about it but they're not paying me to write. And... yep... there's the humor. I'm already writing for them... just for my own enjoyment, apparently. The main page of the company's website has grammatical errors. Company-wide, individual performance is judged on how many bear traps a person has sprung in the last month. I'm done with it. If they paid anywhere close to the industry standard, they'd be pretty goddamned surprised to see just what exactly happens which Richard gets excited about the work he's doing. Again, maybe I've just been incorrectly assuming it's an IT company because of the intricate (and exceedingly extraneous) technical knowledge required to appease angry customers. Maybe it's just a technically-oriented customer support service doing emotional damage control. Well, that's exactly what it is. The only things keeping me there are the physical location and the few older people I get to talk to in the Northeast who are still realizing the benefits of having the internet at home.
My friend Shelley and I went to see Inglourious Basterds yesterday. This was the second time I had seen it in the theaters. She hadn't seen it and... I wanted to see it again. It was just as good as the first time. It might have actually been a little better. Staying with the plot required some effort the first time around. The hardest part the second time through was maintaining my composure in the moments just before Tarantino's trademark "shock" scenes. I found myself giggling comfortably out of step with the rest of the audience after the bludgeoning/maiming/abrubpt pain. The sound on the reel was crackly and inconsistent for the first 3 minutes of the movie. But it sorted itself out and my blood pressure dropped right back in line shortly thereafter.
After the movie, Shelley opted to go up to her cousin's place way up North rather than hang out for the evening. This was entirely agreeable. She's going to move out of her Austin place shortly and just stay in Boston. She's a sweet lady but I don't think either of us were intending to take it anywhere definitive. I dropped her off and celebrated my Saturday by getting a table for one at the Spaghetti Warehouse.
I sat in a traincar as the only passenger next to a stuffy company party of some sort. I had my headphones in and basically just disappeared inside my tall glass of beer and sturdy chunk of lasagna. I gorged myself and displayed my satisfaction by scratching myself victoriously after the dust settled around the table. I'm a predatory animal. And last night, the pasta just wasn't fast enough. The cheescake was also unable to elude my cat-like, Tabletop prowess.
I've been playing with my song in my room like it's a shiny new toy. It's pretty fun. The verse breaks down and enters the chorus seemingly prematurely. It catches whoever's listening and gives me some space to play both of them a little lazily... closer to free verse than a strict tempo. It's different every time and has therefore kept me happy :)
Today I backed up all my gigs of trading stuff and looked at charts. I updated my COT sheets and reinstalled my MT4. I actually have more to do, come to think of it.
Then I did a little maintenance and reinstalled my tablet OS so I can ship it out to the repair folks later this week. I'm looking forward to being mobile again. Don't tell anybody but... for the price of a Kindle, you can get a TC1100.
I found a pretty cool Belgian band called Hooverphonic this afternoon. Actually..
Before I write more about music, I want to take a minute to write about the rain. This was easily the most rain we've gotten in Central Texas in a year. My front yard was one massive puddle. Even the dinosaurs across the street were taking shelter. It rained steadily and heavily for at least 45 minutes here and it's stayed pretty cool into the evening. It's supposed to rain a bit more tonight.
Back to music, Hooverphonic is a group out of Belgium with a trip-hop, ambient foundation and some clean female vocals on top. Their music has been used in a few movies, commercials and shows, but apparently their frontlady just left the group to pursue her own musicstuffs. I'm getting their discography as we speak so I'll have a better idea of their sound shortly. So far, it's clean, rolling and comfortable. It's light but direct with pretty decent instrumentation and colorful, classically European pop melodies.
I've not been listening to my French stations recently. I think I need to stop watching so many movies on Justin.tv and get back to freakin work. If I stop watching Jtv, I will effectively be without entertainment through the week. Jesus... my exercise will have to be my entertainment. I'm going to have to brainstorm on this. I'll write about that soon. Actually, what I really need to do is find a lady who likes to take naps after a long day and then work the rest of the night on things that make her happy. Of course, I'll have to work less to do that. Tastes like irony to me.
>> "This Is Not An Exit" on Stay What You Are by Saves the Day
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