Won't4GetUNotes

I prefer cats to people. Sorry people. Dogs and other animals are ok too. But if I could just focus on saving the kitties, I would.

Like this little girl…I’d take her in a heartbeat. Bolt. A beauty.

TC can handle it.

Starting another year without you. Such a downer. The sun will continue its usual up and down. Apple will continue to make me irritated. And I hope (uh oh there’s that four letter word) at least a few good days are on the horizon.

At least I live here which I don’t take for granted.

I know where the pain in my neck is coming from. I joked in a text to my friend that I had iNeck or an iPhone injury or iHand or whatever. Funny not funny. I used to call the pain in my right arm and shoulder ‘mouse arm’. I don’t do as much visual design as I used to do those aches aren’t as bad anymore. But the neck – and hands – are a different story.

The fine motor skills and specific muscles that allow me to tap tap tap on a thin piece of glass while holding my head at a slight angle are astonishing. And why the fuck am I using them for this? Because it’s here. I’ve fallen into the space of solitude after tidying up living room. I picked up the dusty guitar but realized another pain coming from the big bruise on my arm right where it hits the widest part of the body of the instrument.

I knew I’d I wanted to play, I needed to take out the Taylor. As soon as I held it I wondered when this came into your life. Don, did you have this because of the decade of blood draws and IV’s?

Today nothings wrong with me. Routine blood work. I bruise easily. Not reading into it but it looks nasty and it hurts if it’s being pushed on which this guitar doesn’t do. Thank you.

But back to my neck pain. My iPhone injury. The unintended consequences. For those of us who are fully dexterous, sighted and so inclined, we can really hurt ourselves using all this technology – not just picking on Apple here – it’s a problem on every level. As I sit, about to try to wrap up this weird train of thought I see myself, as a speck of dust in the thing that makes up all of what’s connected. Everything. More than ever. And because of that, awareness, in my conscious state, I have to maintain the ability to be human without this shit. I wonder how long it’ll take before it’s too late and enough humans are more iHuman than not.

Several years ago a woman in a class I was teaching was checking in on her kids during a break. After talking to one of them she said “yeah they hardly pick up the phone but they’ll turtle around all day with the thing”. She was referring to the way a lot of us hold the device and curl onto it. Turtling. Don’t think anyone considered the consequences of a couple decades of using the body that way.

This is where we are just a month or so from 2024. Don’t become an iHuman. And hey Apple, what the fuck? Thought design was your thing.

My wish for humans is to realize how small we all are. How tiny our precious planet really is and that the air we breathe should not be taken for granted. There is nowhere else for our part of the ecosystem to go. All living creatures will die, ourselves included, so why are we hastening that when all we have is this minuscule and spectacular space hurtling through all space.

It makes me sad. It makes me angry. It’s heartbreaking and utterly infuriating. Tears cloud my vision and spill onto my cheeks when I think about it. It’s almost too much to bear. To witness this insanity where (mostly) old, white men are seemingly hell bent on killing everything and I do mean EVERYTHING. I do not loathe men nor do I fault all of one gender for the destruction. Yes, here comes the but.

But.

For all of history, all of time, the majority of the humans who have brought division, greed, war and fear mongering have overwhelmingly been of one sort.

Hearing a story of how one woman saved a river, a waterfall, a habitat, all creatures and an entire ecosystem that support humanity only reinforces this. Men – likely a very small number – were going to kill this waterfall and everything around it for their own use and profit.

She was likely hated and shunned but the waterfall, powerful and fierce as she must have been, still flows. Today it brings more dollars to many people than it ever would have if it were pent up and used for a few.

When I learn her name, I’ll make sure it gets here.

I wonder where that phrase originated. I’ll look later. But for now I’ll just say that I was a perfect example of a basket case today. I thought it’d be fine but damn, it was not. I was not fine. Awkward, sweaty, red-eyed, disaster. Hopefully my weirdness didn’t make things any harder for anyone else.

You’d tell me to forget about all that. Presence. That’s what it was. That and a damn good reminder that getting away from the IE is one of the best things you ever did.

I wonder about so many things. Why that cemetery? Is your sister nearby? Would you want visitors? Did you see the beautiful box your friend made? Do you know how many people you touched? Did you know we all became kinder because of you? How the hell did you ride all those miles? And not just racing either. A leisurely from Redlands to San Clemente? How the fuck can you – of all the humans on this planet – be gone?

There was some type of bird of prey near your grave sight. It made its presence known while we were there. I heard it’s whistle-like song as soon as I got there. Yes, we started late and it ran long but did you think it’d go any other way? And that bird stuck around the whole time. I didn’t see a nest – or the bird – but it definitely watches over that space.

I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to that part of the state. It isn’t what it once was when the air was clearer and citrus groves dominated the landscape. So much concrete, so many of the same strips of shopping. So many Teslas. So few places to plug them in.

Sometimes I still get so angry that you’re gone. You would say “toes in the sand!” or something like that. Low tide is coming so I’ll walk down to the water again. Find a spot for my toes to burrow. Enjoy it while it’s still here.

I’ve been struggling to figure out which is worse: friend death or friend betrayal and, ultimately, a sort of divorce.

This article was right on time: https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2022/03/why-we-lose-friends-aging-happiness/621305/

A simple sunny Vons flower in a mason jar. perfect.

I met a very interesting Lyft driver in Pennsylvania. His daughter is an artist. I received my copy of one of her pieces today. It’s bright and cheery.

Since moving back, when I go for walks, I hum “it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood” in my head. No matter what the weather. It is always beautiful. Be kind.

Does anyone still call it that? I guess trail mix is where we landed but to me it’s gorp. I wonder who made that up.

I miss being able to share shit like this with you. It’s been almost a year since I last saw you at Lost Creek.

When I get back from this weird ass trip to Cranberry Township, PA I’ll set up time to go get your guitar. Promise.

Yes Taylor Hawkins died. Keep an eye out, he is with you now. Wherever the fuck that is. Maybe you guys can make some fun music together. Chill. Rest. Whatever. Or just. Come back?

Living Proof, War On Drugs

Banging on a drum
You turn me lose
Maybe I’m the living proof
What have I been runnin’ from?

I went down to the corner
They’re building at my block
Maybe I’ve been gone too long
I can’t go back
Oh, lonesome
I will protect
I’ll keep improving
Taking me home
I’m always changing
Now I suppose
I’m only moving
I’m in Chicago
Come to me now
I know the path
I know it’s changing
I know the pain
The pain you’ve been feeling
I’ve been to the place
That you’ve tried escaping
I can’t recall
What I believe in
I’m always changing
Love overflowing

But I’m rising
And I’m damaged
Oh, rising
Ooh

Free lemons, rich aroma of rose and star jasmine, high tide down the shoreline steps and a sunrainbow.

It’s always nice here. Some pics from the past few days of being out n about with one of my original people.

Get rid of the clocks

The calendars, too

Turn off your phone

And listen to you

​

All the things from your past

That dwell in your head

The future seems bleak

And something to dread

​

But now, in this moment

Just take a deep breath

And look all around

And see the great gift

​

Of this beautiful earth

And all it provides

Feel the love all around

And take it inside

​

Each breath that you take

Can serve to remind

We are all truly one

Eternal, alive

​

Be here now and listen

To the sound of forever

Keep reminding yourself

Make every moment matter

I get mine from a 12 pound Russian. He’s not exactly my “type” but given the fucked up circumstances of the twisty turny road that is my life, I will take the biting, two-year old with whom I share my space but it’s not what I had in mind.

He’s the only cat I’ve had who thinks I’m the best play thing in the house. Sure he has toys. Yes I play with him multiple times daily. It’s never enough. He wants more than I have to give including skin.

Recently he injured himself on an outside jaunt. Ten stitches, a good sized vet bill and a couple weeks got him back to normal. But my window screens will never be the same. I’ll replace them whenever we move on from here.

He’s back to his astroturf life of indoor outdoor fun. Fun for him, that is. I can’t help but wonder what will he get himself into next but for now, all is fair in catland.

I don’t speak French but this song is beautiful. I felt it tug at tears but I refuse to cry today.

Another new one to me. ABTG (Anything But The Girl) always makes my ears perk up.

I’m sure the next track from Eclectic 24 will make the cut but I’ll leave something for another day.

The cat helmets. Yesterdays rocket launch. I woulda sent those to you but I stared at the sky instead.

Channeling CT today. I’ll do the basics first. That’s the directive. Make the bed. Do the dishes. Eat some proper food. Outta berries so that’ll be the reason for dropping into Mesa Produce and Lazy Acres. Lucky to have this view, the sun (not too hot!) and the means to choose.

I know people have been doing this for a while but my first go at overnight oats worked nicely. Half cup rolled oats about a half cup oat ‘milk’ a tablespoon or so of plain Greek yogurt a little maple syrup and berries cuz everything is better with berries.

I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did but I did so there’s another prepped in the fridge for tomorrow morning.

I have Aspyn to thank for this. No she didn’t invent overnight oats but she did nudge me in the direction of the massive bag of rolled oats at Costco.

You had a no play list. It made sense. Songs that reminded you of [her] weren’t allowed into your ears. If I added something to the YouTube list, you’d reference your running list. Wish your site was still around. A different post for a different day.

This week I realized a whole band – one I’ve loved since their inception – might be headed in that direction. How do I separate memories? The poster I’ve had, the one that he has, came off the wall. Now it’s sitting in a corner. How the fuck do I separate the memories.

The word compartmentalization has been stuck in my head for a week. Is it a good thing to heavily separate people you think you care about from those who become important to you? I don’t have an answer to that question. What I do know is this: I don’t know how to compartmentalize.

I have good memories of Toad The Wet Sprocket’s 2011 show in Burlington, VT. I went with my youngest sister. My friend was touring with the band during that time, too. Among other things, he was their merch manager. In exchange for mailing a handful of posters back to Santa Barbara for the band, he gave me the one I just took off the wall. It’s a good story and an even better memory.

Fast forward a few years to the summer of 2014. I spontaneously decide to go to see TTWS at a tiny venue in rural Connecticut during a pretty heavy thunderstorm. (Pre-pandemic I had a habit of going to see concerts alone.) The short version of the story is that the storm that had soaked me on my way into the venue also took out the electricity in the middle of the show. No generator. No light except for some devices glowing and a few candles. The band – gotta love Glen Phillips belting out Finally Fading – kept playing. It was a special night.

Before the storm killed the power, I’d been writing down the set list. You asked what I was writing. I asked if you had the new album. The exchange started a six plus year relationship. Not too long after that I visited your place and saw your copy of the same poster. The one I just took off my wall. Until last week, my framed version of the poster was one of the few material things with sentimental meaning in my current home.

Now? It reminds me of you. The whole fucking band reminds me of you. Was it all a lie? It feels that way. You lied to get my contact information that night. Something I figured out later by asking.

But back to the poster. How do I compartmentalize? I still love it. But I loved you too and when I look at it, all that – the crap I don’t have room for – swirls around and it doesn’t feel good. The space on the wall is empty which is appropriate. And the band? They might end up relegated to a no play list.

I didn’t think I’d get hooked. Being able to successfully solve these daily word scavenger hunts has to be the reason why I dig it. I’m not competitive. My visual puzzling skills aren’t strong and I tend to lose 99% of the Words With Friends games I play.

I have mixed feelings about it selling to The New York Times. It’s understandable that the author of this version of the puzzle would want to be paid for his work. Hope you got paid well Josh Wardle.

In case anyone is wondering, Josh didn’t invent the puzzle. Here’s more on how Wordle came to be:

https://jtwoo.blogspot.com/2022/01/can-we-talk-about-wordle.html

You say you’re sorry but it’s too late now
So save it, get gone, shut up
‘Cause if you think I care ’bout you now
Well, boy, I don’t give a fuck

I figured it out. They are masters at compartmentalization. What I just realized (duh again!) is that I’m in the compartment that could be called “The Reddit threads, other silly shit textlationship”. He thinks of me only to share silly cat videos. I let myself be in fantasy land thinking it was something more. Maybe because of the way it started.

Me. Of all people. I’m the person who knows electronic comm is not a relationship. The main reason why I won’t engage much online let alone do the online dating thing. It’s onfuckingline. People are so attached to that part. I find it the most exhausting thing ever maybe because I’ve been doing it for decades. Not the dating part. Communicating electronically. It ain’t new. I’ve watched friends feel ‘dumped’ when someone they were texting with bails out on them. Yes, some of us are that lonely. We want to connect. Bad.

My biggest problem. I am one of the lonely. The too much, not enough, too old, too disarming. All the things I tell myself that reinforces the unworthiness. Not worthy of having the organic connections – the ones that feel real – become true reality. The crumbs of touch that spark the firefly feelings. Fleeting and rare, the ones I long for the most. I’ve had those. And I will admit to wanting so much for them to be real that I fell into the pit of hope I’ve been warning others about for so long.

When I think of what you went through all these years to stick around, I’m in such awe. I want to have half of your grounding. Maybe even just a speck of whatever you had that kept you tethered. Thanks for sticking around for so long.

I rely on the sky, ocean, islands and air to keep me company. (Yeah, TC counts but he’s a fucking cat). It’s not enough though I still try to fill the gaps by appreciating what’s here. But I woulda traded the weather and the pacific for the chance to have that connection I felt be mutual. Some things just aren’t meant to be. I feel like I’ve run outta chances. Happenstance airport conversations that start a spark? Not likely.

I know what you’d say, some “their loss” kinda thing. And you’d mean it but it doesn’t take the sting and the ache away.

I try to buy into all that “the people who leave us are ‘here’ in the energy” and sometimes it sorta works but not right now. It’s crap. Your gone and I just fucking miss you.

A special sprite of a pup left us last week. Look out for him, show him the way back to the beach.

There’s a new kitty around the neighborhood. TC gets all up in his face so he’s not roaming freely but he’s here. Is that you? What happens when we envision reincarnation? I spoze that’s what makes it so.

I tried to log into the UnitedHealthCare website when I got my member card in the mail on Friday (note: Friday was December 31st). Nothing worked. I got irritated. Then decided to give the company a break because I knew that my account wouldn’t be active – or accessible – until the turn of the year. So I waited.

A couple days later, I got an email asking me to join their fitness or some kind of wellness tracking program. Tracking being the key here. They all want to track you and you’ll give them your data in exchange for a couple hundred bucks.

But the topic of tracking is a tangent and I’m not going there right now. I’m still hung up on the basic usability – or lack thereof – of the online tools provided by a multi-billion dollar company. Even the usability of the email sucked. But that didn’t prevent me from trying to click on something to get into the details of my health insurance coverage.

The fact that I couldn’t log in on 12/31 wasn’t shocking to me. It’s sad that not one person thought to provide log in access to the site prior to the changing of the calendar but I knew that was why I couldn’t log in so I decided to try again during the morning on the 4th of January.

My coverage is supposed to be active now. Plus, I’d just received an email with the following subject line: Ready for an easier way to access your health plan details?

Yes! I’m ready for an easier way to access my health plan details. I clicked on the logo thinking it’d take me to the website. It did not. Then I clicked on a link called see what’s covered.

Was I able to log into the website?

No.

So I decided I’d reset my password. Being human, I thought it was my error, and I decided I’d try to fix that before getting even more irritated. Password reset. Easy enough, right?

No.

After entering my username and password, I waited and when I saw the screen flicker I thought, phew, finally. Then, nothing.

When I say nothing I mean nothing loaded on the screen except for a chatbot type image at the bottom right side of the screen and a feedback widget at the bottom left. (Yes, I clicked the red sad face and gave them feedback.)

Once again, I thought, welp, I’m using Firefox, it’s my issue. I’ll try Safari (yes, I’m using a Mac).

The same thing occurred there. I suspected it has something to do with my account. If I had UHC coverage in the past, it’s likely that – even though the coverage is inactive – it’s still associated with the username I’ve been trying to use as my login credentials. Should that be my problem? No. But it is.

This is when the rant starts…it’s not too bad today. But it’s still a rant.

This is not a rhetorical question: How is it that a company that’s gathering up billions in profit on a quarterly basis can’t actually check (it’s a basic function called Quality Assurance or Quality Control) to make sure issues like this don’t happen on a regular basis? It’s supposed to be a basic business function. After all, we’re in 2022 and this stuff has been around for decades.

Every day I encounter broken stuff, unusable stuff, poorly designed and horribly implemented stuff on every device. All the crap we’re saddled with. The things that are supposed to make life easier. Well that ship has sailed. Not much is easy when it comes to being a human who is trying to use the tech and services that surround most of us.

I’ve posted stuff like this into the interwebs in the past. Some folks call me negative but if I’m frustrated, how do people two decades older deal? I – for better or worse – understand the complexity of what’s going on behind the scenes so I have more patience and tolerance for this kind of stuff but I’m done simply grabbing screen shots that never go beyond my devices.

Maybe shame is what companies need but even then, I’m not confident that they will care at all. Even money doesn’t shame them. Fines, fees, legal settlements are all the cost of doing business. Customer experience? Not all that important as long as the shareholders are satisfied.

Cat juggling – not literally – has been a lot these past few weeks. Mine is back. Swapped out for Deano who is hopefully gonna settle in and just be a kitty.

Christmas is basically cancelled as far as I’m concerned. So much highly transmissible virus – yes, another variant – even more contagious than the last. No surprise. Just disappointment in humanity – or lack thereof.

So for now, it’s cozy with cat company and that’s ok.

How does a dirty plastic cup end up in a bush? There’s so much trash everywhere. It’s hard to keep up. From cigarette butts to mail to plastic thingys. I read the saddest article this morning about the amount of plastic. It’s hard to fathom how humans get themselves out of this mess since we’re the ones who created it.

The nurdles are beyond terrible. This Washington Post article is what I read earlier today. It’s sad so if you click through the link, be prepared to get depressed.

More about nurdles in Sri Lanka.

If there’s anyone who deserves to be brought back as a well-cared for (ahem, spoiled!) kitty…you know who you are.

Another beautiful day in the neighborhood. I wonder if the angle of the sun is what makes the water sparkle.

If the doors of perception were open, everything would appear as if is: infinite.

William Blake (via Dad)

I really liked the therapist I saw for a bit when I was falling apart in Indy. There was one thing that rubbed me the wrong way. She said I made this place sound like Shangri-La. Her tone had a touch of condescension or maybe she was genuinely concerned I was putting all my happy eggs in one basket.

If it’s the place where I’m most content, why not call it Shangri-La? I don’t believe there is such a place. Nothing is perfect. Nowhere is utopia. But when you can walk your neighborhood and come home with fresh-off-the-tree oranges, it is quite nourishing.

Late fall roses and lavender make it that much sweeter. No matter how lonely I might feel right now, all of this keeps me good company although, if living in snowy cold winter would bring you and CT back, that’s a deal I’d be willing to make.

What the hell is going on with these orgs? So much trash. Why do you – Sierra Club, The Nature Conservancy – have to send all this stuff? Is this really working?! Can’t imagine it’s good for anything. If it’s good for fundraising isn’t it sending the wrong message? Do you really make money from all these piles of crap? I don’t need planners, calendars, maps and stickers. I also won’t give you another dime as long as you’re using these old, harmful marcom practices.

Weighing heavily on my mind. Maybe it’s the time of year. In 2019 I drove from Indy to SB, man do I regret not stopping in Joplin. Never thought I’d say those words. Miss you so much.

A perfectly Santa Barbara day with my two original people (yes, parents). Saturday market, a clear view of the islands, birds and the bittersweet of big, majesty cats at the zoo. Don’t need to wait for a vacancy, for things to be gone, to add a little note and a glimpse. Back to basic ole blogging. Soon I’ll go find a plug in so you can subscribe for updates. Until then. Dropping this into and onto the energy of things.

It bothers me – really fucking bothers me – that org’s like Sierra Club send all this crap in the mail. I have a huge issue with it because it’s old thinking. These mailers have been landing in my recycling bin for decades.

Is this the best way to reach people? Does anyone read these letters? Plus, the energy required to go from the concept to my mailbox has a price tag in so many ways other than hard dollars. Why would an organization dedicated to preserving some of our remaining resources show such blatant disregard for those same resources?

I know you’d agree – all y’all out there – that there is no good reason to keep putting all this shit out into our already suffocating world. If there’s ever an obituary for earth, the cause of death should definitely include: Sierra Club mailings.

Oh and those fucking ASPCA envelopes with the return address stickers. I think The Nature Conservancy sends them, too. No. We don’t need more of them and they don’t seem to make me wanna send donations. Who is swayed to become a card carrying member of any of these orgs? I’m genuinely curious about the return. Do a mailing, get a flood of new members? Inquiring minds wanna know.