Eat Freaks

Based on my daily schedule, my calorie intact is probably way below average. I've heard that 2500 calories a day is required to maintain weight. A few hundred more calories and you gain weight. A few hundred less and you lose weight. I've been the same one hundred forty-ish pounds since the beginning of college. George has been keeping a food diary recently and she gets real detailed. Six fries, a bite of salad. One binge burger.

My food diary for today would look like:

Half a Starbucks frappuccino. Eight Nutter Butters. Blueberry bagel. Thirty gummy bears. One mini-pack of Nerds. Three cups of coffee. One-fourth of a giant slice of chocolate cake. Half a tuna melt. A third each of pork chops and chicken fried steak. One-fourth of an egg. Some potato salad. A bite of coleslaw.

Everything from the three cups of coffee on was from dinner, my meal of the day. I don't eat breakfast or lunch really. I just snack away until evening time. I'm starting to suspect that my complete inability to function during the day might be tied to my lack of calories/fuel. Then again, eating tends to make me sleepy. Or maybe it's being up before two in the afternoon that makes me a zombie.

Part of growing up and maturing is recognizing what your body needs and responds to. My whole eating philosophy has generally been eat when there's food around, don't eat when it's not. I don't get hungry as much as my mouth craves certain flavors. Given the choice, I'd take a nutrition pill daily instead of taking the time out for sustenance eating. Then actual eating could be reserved for great food, leisurely dining, or special occasions. The only eating rule I've devised for myself in recent years is the 80% rule. Don't eat to your max. Eat to eighty percent and quit, thus making you not feel like an overstuffed slug.

I'm curious at what point my body will reject this "regimen" and I'll start getting unhealthy, gain weight, or whatever physical hardships most adults start having to face as they approach middle age. Stopping to think about it, I'm like the only person I know who doesn't engage in any physical activities whatsoever. Most of my peers go to the gym, yoga, lift weights, rock climb, run, or do something that keeps them in shape. At best I play basketball once a week or so. I maintain that I can still run and exert myself semi-decently, but that's pretty untested. And oh, did I mention I'm a smoker?

I wonder if I'm deluding myself into thinking that my body just takes all this shit and somehow churns on without any major problems. I like to joke that I'm like a machine that requires little to no maintenance. I rarely get sick, I generally have good energy reserves, and I'm not a slave to my hunger. But what if underneath all that my heart is getting clogged up? Or my lungs are atrophying? Or my metabolism is slowing down? It's hard to tell if I should just keep rolling like this or attempt to make some changes.

Your body's your temple right? In that case, my temple is devoid of worshippers and filled with refuse.

Day 240

Listening to: Basia Bulat, "Before I Knew." How silly of me to think that nothing could beat whistling and an ukelele. The obvious topper is hand claps and ukelele. Maybe we'll call it a tie.

I'm starting to suspect that April will come to a close having passed right by. While it was certainly filled with plenty of activities and things, I feel like it was uneventful. I know, it wasn't. Lots of things happened in April that will live on in the memory banks. People came to town for B.O.B., Bay Area visits, and birthdays. Warm afternoons and nights in the park were nice -- and something new.

So I guess what I mean about April being uneventful is that there wasn't much going on on my side of things. Nothing's really changed the past month. Friendships remain steady, life is steady, habits, routine, all of that. Inside I feel the exact same as I did in March. Which isn't that strange I guess. But maybe I'd gotten used to things shifting around every few weeks. The shifting makes you feel alive more I think.

I started the month off in San Diego and I'll end it back in San Diego. I'm heading down this weekend because my tooth fell out. Yeah, like my tooth. It's just a crown and it doesn't hurt or anything but I've been living in fear the past few days that I'll lose it when I swish water and a thousand dollars will literally go down the drain. I got me some dental cement so hopefully that won't happen.

The few remaining days of April will be spent finishing a few sample chapters and a new synopsis due next week. I've somehow worked my way into an idea (or two) that I'm excited about so even if the writing itself isn't that great, I definitely have the motivation and vision to finish what I need to finish. And then it's on with the job hunt. I've set May as my start date for job hunting. People are telling me the average time span for finding a job is six weeks. Maybe more. I'm not sure I have that kind of time. My goal is to find a job by June, or somewhere in there.

Have I mentioned that I'm thinking of giving up my apartment? Short story short, I'm never there. I spend half my week at someone else's apartment and dropping $1200 a month for storage seems stupid. Plus money will run out soon. It seems a bit like defeat because I really haven't been living by myself at all even if technically I am, but finances and logic dictate a cheaper option. Unless I get a job soon, of course. Then the experiment can continue unabated. I swear I'll spend a whole week sleeping in my own bed, I swear it.

Ameer turned thirty this past weekend. There was a surprise, a BBQ, a few days off. Hong came up, which was nice since he never goes anywhere (well, with us). He hasn't really been up here since 2004 or something stupid like that. We were up here for Nancy's wedding a few years ago but that was a really rushed weekend and we weren't really in the city. The last time Hong was actually here, it was for Victor's birthday. That was five whole years ago. Look at some of the pictures. We look the same but things have changed for everyone. I could do a list of the changes but that would be kind of a lot.

Oh whatever, what else do I have to do but reminisce? In the group picture, there's three marriages, one engagement, three sets of future exes, one kid on the way, two relationships soon to happen, one least likely candidate to move to Taiwan, two people who moved overseas and back again, three future co-workers (one CEO), five mortgage payers, and about six sets of roommates past and present. Oh and one dog, I believe someone got a dog. Something named Pika, Pita, Pira, whatever.

Another five years down the line, the changes will probably all be confined to the following: married, mortgage, and/or meandering. Can't wait.

Day 234

Listening to: Matt the Electrician, "Little Hands." Ukelele and whistling? Whoever this Matt guy is, I can't get this song out of my head.

It's strange how distant the past can feel while at the same time looking over a few pictures, watching a few videos, or just talking about things long ago can bring it all flinging back. I wasted away an hour or two following YouTube link after YouTube link, watching old dance videos. And not even dance videos of people I spent time with on campus, but videos of people from a few years after I left Michigan.

We sometimes talk about how close certain people are to the other people "in the group," and it often seems like that number is very small. For some, out of the forty or so dancers who are considered "family," it's only a handful of people that could be defined as still really great friends now. That's different for individuals, of course, since some people are better at keeping in touch, some people built stronger bonds, some people have outgrown each other, what have you. But overall, there was something to all those hours spent together. And it's strange to think that you could have spent so much time with these people, to know so much about them, yet know nothing and feel incredibly distant.

If there's anything I've had to come to terms with as the years have gone by, it's the reality that friendships wax and wane, and that sometimes you can't/won't get back to any high points. My previously long held philosophy was that whatever high point you hit as friends, you maintain that and that is what resonates about your friendship. But as the years have truly created drift and tectonic shifts, I've become more accepting of the idea that sometimes a friendship is just meant for a certain time. It marked a period in your life, you take what you can out of it, and move along.

I don't think I like it, but it's how it is, right?

Here's my two favorite videos I cruised through. A 2xs and funKtion collaboration that features SF friends that we hang out with now, and a funKtion good bye video that has a hilarious behind the scenes part where everyone is imitating other people (2:40 mark). I wasn't even a part of these experiences but I felt nostalgic about them. Is that weird, to feel nostalgia and to smile at people I didn't even know then?

About a minute into the collabo video, they essentially do an updated version of a couples dance (to Kai's "Say You'll Stay") that we did in 2000. Somehow, four years later, there was the same song and dance being done by a completely separate group of people. Later on in that performance, the music goes out and everyone had to regroup and go again. That mirrored one of my favorite performances from the past, when our boombox shut down and we ended the routine by everyone singing the rest of the song because hell, we'd practiced so much to it that we all knew the words. I guess it's these similar experiences that tie people together?

Is that a strong bond, a weak bond, or just a fading bond? Kind of all three I guess.

The other night, three of us spent a warm night on the steps of Mission High School. It reminded me of what I liked best about summers in New York. The late nights, the hot but cooling off weather, the nothing to do but something to talk about. Sitting there on the giant stoop, watching cars go by, it was exactly like some of my favorite times at Michigan, where I sat with someone(s) on the stairs of Angell Hall, idly watching the street and talking, and waiting for the sun to rise. Those moments are harder to come by nowadays, and it's not exactly something you generally suggest to do. There are too many bars, clubs, restaurants, and places to go into. But none of those beat a simple set of stairs, do they?

The Wizard and I

Listening to: Lenka, "The Show." I'm just a little bit caught in the middle / Life is a maze and love is a riddle / I don't know where to go / I can't do it alone (I've tried) / and I don't know why

So it's Thursday night, Jas and George decide they need to go out, to blow off some weekday steam, to get a few drinks, to have some fun. We head off to the Redwood Room, which is located in a hotel and definitely nicer than the normal bars/lounges we frequent. I'm underdressed as usual but feel fine about it. There are lots of tall gents and ladies lounging and standing around. George gets carded by the bartender because she looks like she was born "in 1986." That was the bartender's direct quote and she also commented on how young the rest of us looked.

Drinks in hand, we decide to sit ourselves down at one of the nice tables despite the Reserved sign. A few minutes in, a hostess tells us we'll have to move when a VIP party comes in. We say "cool, no problem." Half an hour later, this tall guy comes over to move us off the table, sees JonG's Michigan t-shirt and says "You went to Michigan? I'm Michigan born and bred. And an alumni." We immediately respond, "We all went to Michigan!" (George lied but she practically did go to Michigan) It's like you can't escape the gravitational pull of Michigan, invariably everyone I meet is somehow related to Michigan, sometimes uncomfortably close. So this Umich host guy tells us to go sit down at the next lounge area over.

The VIP people take our old seats. It's a group of (good looking) young-ish people, all dressed casual stylish and not looking much different than any other trendy folk you might find in a swanky SF bar. The nice host guy comes over, chats us up in loud engaging tones, and then drops the information that the cast of Wicked is sitting "right over there." At that point my eyes widen and I geek out. I'm sitting with my back to the group of them but keep glancing over to take a look and to try to figure out who's who.

The music in the bar is cranked up and dancey and JonG starts doing the JonG dance at our table. A few of the Wicked people get up off their seats and start dancing too. They have rhythm, they have sashays, they have fluidity. They might be randomly stretching their toes to the air. JonG then challenges George to go over and talk to them for "one hundred dollars and a cupcake." George downs her drink, crosses the five feet distance separating us, and starts talking to two of the guys sitting closest. I overhear her say, while pointing in my direction, "That's my brother, he's a bigger Wicked fan than I am!" Great, thanks a lot. But it's okay because when George comes back, she points out the girl who plays Elphaba and my inner Dorothy screams in delight. Elphaba is right there!

We kind of coolly ignore them over the course of the night but really I'm studying them from afar. I felt like I was in the presence of celebrities. We kept drinking, kept dancing, kept having a good time . JonG and Jas made me feel good about their excellent sense of rhythm, George and I bopped around. I hoped for a dance off, an impromptu singalong, anything. I wanted to ask them all to go karaoke with us this weekend. We clinked glasses with a few of them but in reality I figured this was as close as we'd get. However, near the end of the night, we're suddenly talking to one of the cast members. I think it was JonG who started it. We were in!

I got to ask a few stupid questions about the show and basically reveled in fanboydom. As their group is getting ready to go, we meet a few other members of the cast. I tell this one guy that he's a great dancer. He says "Oh, I like you" and walks over to ask for my name. A few seconds later he asks George (jokingly?) if I'm gay or straight. Here's George's answer: "I don't know." They laugh. She adds, "he can be anything you want him to be." Basically she sold me out but to be honest, it was for a good cause.

George ends up getting one of the super friendly guy's phone number. He lives in the Haight. Maybe, if we're lucky, we'll be eating brunch with him -- and his friends?! -- one of these days. Maybe when I go home I Google the shit out of the cast to find out who we met. Maybe I find them. Maybe we had a really fantastic random night. Maybe we had a time. Maybe dreams do come true...

Day 225

Listening to: Bishop Allen. From Brooklyn by way of Boston. I'm DLing their albums now. Here's two tracks I'm digging: "Butterfly Nets" and "Rain."

Two years ago, at almost exactly around this time, I was filled with an intense sea of enthusiasm, creativity, hope, purpose, and single minded focus/craziness. While I can't say it was a good time in my life, it was definitely useful because words were pouring out of me, I couldn't shut up, and I was excited about everything in life. I wonder if I could induce the same state by depriving myself of sleep again (if that was indeed the cause).

I think it would be tremendously useful, to kick things into overdrive for awhile, to have energy bursting out of me. I felt tremendously alive for the weeks following the incident and I kind of want to feel that again. Given the choice, if there was a drug that could get me there again, I'd highly consider taking it.

I find it odd that the recreational drugs of choice for most people are alcohol and marijuana. They're downers right? They take your energy away? Make you numb? If I were ever to take drugs, I'd only consider hallucinogens or stuff that makes you feel amazing. I guess all drugs are about escapism to an extent but I'd be a lot more interested in drugs that made me more excited and productive, versus ones that drive you into a state of exhaustion and then collapse.

Basically I'd have no qualms about popping some pills to wake up alert and excited and then another pill to drop off into restful sleep. The only drugs I'm on now are Girl Scout cookies and nicotine and neither one of them make me want to touch my computer because my hands are invariably dirty afterwards.

We went to a wedding banquet this weekend. An absurdly typical one, aside from an excellent wedding DJ. The program of events went like this: greet and meet, wait for dinner, small talk once with people around the table, introduction of wedding party, speeches by best man/maiden, parental dance, slide show, tossing of bouquet and garter, wedding cake, and sporadic dancing while looking for a quick exit. It was kind of a yawner. Not a ton of personality all around.

I swear at my wedding (or George's, since I'm nominating myself as her coordinator), nothing will be done just for the sake of doing it. I wonder if everyone has that mentality about their wedding going in. "I want it to be special and different and reflective of our personalities!" And then they end up with this totally normal one that hits all the marks but with no real emotion or specialness anywhere.

The by the books formality of most weddings seems pretty ridiculous to me. I waited around and paid forty grand for this? But to be honest, I don't really have any better ideas at the moment so I shouldn't complain too much. My ideal wedding would be a glorified sleepover and I doubt that would satisfy the ceremonial aspect fully.

In moments when I'm not thinking about much, the thing my mind drifts to is often "What's the point of all this again?" The parallels between the recent wedding and funeral I attended had me thinking that there wasn't much to look forward to. I'd hate to spin the same old song but if there's no future with a lovely wife and spectacular children in the cards, I can't imagine what people are living for. It all ends up as amusement and entertainment doesn't it? Unless you have a Purpose, one that gives you the feeling that you're making a difference. Short of either family or a purpose, what's the point?

Day 221

Listening to: The New Yorker Out Loud Podcast. A short weekly podcast about random stuff. Everything's generally around ten minutes so and perfect for a short walking or bussing commute. A few I've enjoyed: Comedian Kat Williams (Apr 13), the enduring appeal of vampires (Mar 16), and the Lily Allen experience (Mar 9). My ratio of audio listening is like 70% podcasts and 30% music nowadays. I just find it oh so informative.

It's been said that we're a tough bunch to infiltrate. Last week, sitting around the kitchen table, we were (briefly) talking about if we're jerks or asses because nobody's significant others gets easily embraced. Which is true. I mean, we're incredibly judgmental, we apparently aren't always friendly, and we're like kind of mean sometimes -- or we don't hesitate to say negative things quickly. That can't be fun for the girlfriend/boyfriend to wander into. Actually, I can't even think of many boyfriends that have been brought around. If they come around, they're already fiances or super serious, so we kind of have to like them (or not). So I'll restrict this to girlfriends.

You know how people are always saying, "It's important that my friends like my girlfriend, etc." That's great but half of that getting your GF integrated is having your friends reach out. And now that I stop and think about it, we don't really do that as a group. We aren't great at reaching out. Or maybe we are but we just don't do it. I'd love to know the reason why. It probably starts because of how insular we are. There's a lot of history, a lot of inside jokes, a certain rhythm to our hanging out. We're not uppity, if anything, we're the opposite, we're down-ity. Btw, I'm talking about the San Diego friend group, not the dance one or others ones -- not that there are other ones.

I personally have never encountered this problem with my girlfriends. I tend to date from within the pool so everyone's already friends with her. This presents its own problems of course. Namely that there's a lot of "he said, she said" and there's scrutiny all around. But it makes it really easy because I've never had to integrate anyone to the friend group.

It's something everyone else has had to do. And I can't say there's been any full on successes. If anything, someone is a winner simply by being non-annoying and semi-fun. That means the bar is raised pretty low but at the same time, that bar is attached to a big old brick wall right behind it. It must suck for the GF, who's probably trying to be friendly and nice. I wonder what effect this has had on anybody's relationships.

I mean, it's like someone could have been going out with our friend for years and we barely know them, or acknowledge them, or reach out to get to know them. Imagine if that were the other way around? I can't necessarily, because I've never had to infiltrate a GF's friend group. It's something I hope to experience one of these days.

And when I fail I'll be sure to return with my tail between my legs and report how mean and unwelcoming they are and declare that it's just perfectly normal for everyone to be jerks.

Day 217

Listening to: Enchanted, "True Love's Kiss." There's a reason why, really. See below.

I'm completely jewelry-less. Well, except the earrings of course. But I don't have any rings, necklaces, or bracelets on. The only piece I've been wearing the last couple of weeks fell down the shower drain yesterday. I gave a half hearted attempt to rescue the thumb ring after it went swirling away but decided that it wasn't worth more than an "aw shucks." Plus, I had just watched the Caves episode of Planet Earth and there was no way I was sticking any unprotected fingers down dark holes. Planet Earth is pretty ridiculous on Blu-Ray and Caves might be the sleeper best episode of the lot. The beginning is just insane. It takes a lot to make me un-favorite ocean and big cat episodes but Caves showed me things I'd never seen before.

Our week in SD has been spent mainly at the Hotel, camped out and watching DVDs. Hong has no cable, which means we've rewatched quite a few movies. For example, today we watched Enchanted roughly three times. Ameer watched it early in the morning since he's always up before anyone else. I insisted we watch the beginning when I woke up around noon. And then Des came over and she just had to watch it right? Amy Adams is high on my list of favorite actresses and she's pitch perfect as a fairy tale princess in the real world. And James Marsden is kind of amazing too. It's kind of terrible how much he's underused in the X-Men movies. But in Enchanted he's both over the top hilarious and doing a great subtle performance. "Thank you for taking care of my bride, peasants!"

Nowadays, whenever I watch any well done teen/romantic kind of movie, I feel this need to rewatch it over and over to study it. And the more I do that the more I'm like "this shit is amazing!" It is not easy to take the classic beginning-middle-happy ending arc and do something entertaining and even slightly original with it. And especially with Enchanted, it's doing the double duty of paying homage and poking fun at all of Disney's princess movies. Not an easy task.

After our final showing, I made Des do promo videos for the book. If I could send Des out on interviews and signings, the book would go huge, I'm sure of it. Who would you rather have your daughter go visit at the bookstore? Me or Des? Exactly. Des would be the perfect Chloe-Grace too. I gave her some vague instructions like, "Say something about the book, say it's out the fourteenth of May, and be excited and cute." I sucked as a director; luckily she's great.

We ended up having her give mini-performances as a few of the side characters, as well as a few straight "EC is coming out soon!" spots. I'm thinking maybe I should be coercing more of my friends to do promos. Here's a preview of her as "Henry/Hong." There's a few more I need to edit and piece together. Should be fun.

I spent the better part of Friday night answering comments and emails. I'm trying to leap into the YA book blogosphere and it's teeming with writers and readers. I feel like I don't have much time and everyone else has been doing their online publicity for awhile now so I have to pound the virtual pavement. I went to everyone's websites to scout them out before leaving perfect two sentence comments/replies that would indicate I'd looked at more than just their front page. I read the bios, I looked for things we had in common, I tried to be approachable and interested. Twenty of these in and my eyes were bugging out. It's good to know that my Internet stalking skills could be used for good though.

Over the course of the week, we got to see Gene's daughter a few times. She's quickly moving up the list of my favorite children. Fine, whatever, she's number one. I'll play me some favorites. Sage is not only quite cute but she's an unbelievable mimic. Helen and Gene have her trained super well and she's got tons of tricks -- this sounds vaguely circus-like but I assure you it's not. And when you put on something with a beat she starts bopping up and down immediately. She's also so well behaved that she takes verbal commands. What a delight this child is.

Not to speak for them but it seems like Gene and Helen's child rearing philosophy is centered around letting Sage just be who she is. She's a little neat freak, she's got some OCD, she's by nature this way or that way and the two of them just roll with it. It's a very laissez faire attitude but it's produced amazing results. Sage is just delightful. Oh wait, did I say that already?