BoldUlysses.com

Prayers for Emily… I’m here. Yeah…here. Wish I weren’t, and you know what I mean when I say that. Solace is best given in closer proximity than a few hundred miles, but… *sigh*

Gosh. Do not want to be here this morning… I’d rather be telling someone, “Just sleep,” if you know what I’m referencing. Wearing my olive sweater that I picked up from the thrift shop on Saturday. It’s wool so I need to wash it with some Woolite in the sink, so it still smells just the faintest bit musty, but not unpleasantly so. Just…like my old accordion case used to smell (and probably still does, come to think of it). So much to do, and at the same time nothing to do… Nothing that I want to do except for a few things, really, most of which involving driving or flying for significant distances.

Leslie asked me yesterday out of the blue where I would go if I could travel anywhere in the United States to relax. I thought for a minute and answered Tillamook, on the Oregon coast. My family has missionary friends who live in Portland, about a hour from there, and they actually own a little beach cottage within easy walking distance of the seaside. We visited them a number of years ago and stayed at the cottage with them for a day or two. The sand on the beach stretches for a mile before it encounters the ocean, at low tide, and I remember the bonfire on the sand, sitting and watching every moment of the sunset in the west, upon the horizon, the warm wind whipping through our hair, just existing. I don’t think I’ve been many places more idyllic.

Happy new year! The party last night was large and uneventful, except for the fact that one of my roommates (John) got engaged earlier in the evening, to Kristi. People close to me have gotten engaged before, but it was surreal, to say the least, this time. I was thrilled for them… She was beaming; all the guys shook his hand as he knocked back a few beers. Good fun. He got her a huge diamond, too. Holy cow. I don’t know exactly how to describe my reaction to it, and I’ve been thinking about it since last night–I can’t quite pinpoint the feeling that I experience when I think about it. John and I are close…but we certainly don’t share everything with each other, although from this feeling you might think otherwise. Gosh, I don’t know. Why do I have to know, anyway? Because I like to have things figured out; that’s why.

I love the smell of a new cd booklet–or a new book, for that matter, but there’s something unique about a cd liner. Maybe it’s the ink they use; maybe it’s the jewel-like quality of it, so small but jam-packed with nuggets of information, photos, words, design… And the selectiveness of what’s in it–makes me wonder what they were trying to convey, how the visuals tie in with the music. Are they trying to contrast with the music? Or do the images enhance whatever qualities the music already has? It’s a puzzle.

As I was working this morning the Caedmon’s Call song “Somewhere North” popped into my head, and it took me back to the trip I took with Jonathan up to Pennsylvania in October of ’99. Heady days… The endless road, conversations, long stretches of silence listening to the music, feeling for the first time like a displaced island in the middle of nowhere, so far removed from any semblance of a support network of friends nearby. I loved it. Something about the first taste of real independence made my heart race just a bit faster, even when I was sitting still. That was the semester I got straight A’s, too… My only one. New friendships were cropping up, my relationship with professors was strong, and I was actually pleased with the drawings I made for critiques and the like. If only it all hadn’t come crashing down the following semester… But everything happened for a purpose, there’s no doubt. Funny how I see that in increasing measure in everyday events; well, looking back on them at least I’m taken with a sense of reason, that even if I don’t and may never fully understand the underlying harmonies, it will all weave together in the end.

Back at work. I was dreading it slightly last night, but sitting here today, working on the Gazette redesign in a quiet office, with only the music over the headphones to keep me company… It’s actually quite nice. I thank God for this job every day. Gosh.

Got my car started yesterday…finally. First time it’s run since September. This was fairly huge considering how much energy I’ve expended on getting everything sorted. And it’s still not there yet… but it was rather exciting. I was happy. I feel like I’m walking forward waist-high in molasses trying to make progress on this thing, so I’ll take anything I can get. If you feel a compulsion to review the event in more detail, visit gearheads, where I quarantine the vast majority of my automotive ramblings, for your own protection.

New Year’s eve party tonight at Heather and Leslie’s. The theme is ’20s and ’30s, and I have no idea what to wear. No clue, and I wouldn’t know where to shop for those clothes even if I did know. Golly. I think I’m just going to wear a pair of chinos, black shoes and belt, and a navy blazer. Hard to go wrong with that, and if people squint their eyes I might actually look a little Gatsby-ish. At least that’s what I’m hoping.

Getting extraordinarily frustrated with the car. About a month ago I pulled the engine harness off the car and rewired the ECU side of it, getting rid of all the splices and generally cleaning things up pretty well.

Got everything reattached last night, and the car persists in doing the same thing it had before the rewire: Starting strong, revving to ~1500 rpm for a second or two, then completely dying. Every possible course of investigation into the causes of this has been pursued–sensors, wiring, ECU, connectors… Everything.

I know it’s going to be something simple. It can’t be complicated and not change at all as I plug and unplug various peripherals searching for the culprit.

It had been be worth it to drive; that’s all I have to say.

I’m not as bummed out as you might imagine, though. If nothing else I was encouraged by the fact that I ripped the whole harness off the car, rewired and cleaned up every wire leading to the ECU, and I didn’t screw up the car more than it was before. This is good.

I hooked the battery charger up to it earlier and sat in the driver’s seat, listening to the stereo and shifting aimlessly, left hand holding the steering wheel. Between bouts of frustration with the harness, I needed some re-motivation.

Random pictures:

The mass of splices on the ECU side of the harness, pre-rewiring.

The cleaned-up and lengthened harness, all soldered and buttoned up.

1JZ-GTE. Stock a 280 hp mill, assuming I have decent compression from the ~25K mi. engine (and happy turbos), with the 3″ exhaust, intake, and boost bumped up to 10 psi, I should be over 300 comfortably. For a while. Assuming I get this running by February (please God), I’ll have some hard numbers after a dyno day.

Poor man’s BMW 850i. Apologies for the lamppost in the middle of the photo. The rims are loaners–they’re from the engine’s donor car and the owner of said car wants them back. I couldn’t resist putting them on, though. They’re only 16×7 (stock size), but it’s definitely the style I want, albeit much larger (18×9-10). All in good time. I just want to drive it… Wish me luck.

Update 12/30/03: It RUNS! Thanks for all the help, guys. It wasn’t getting fuel, as most of you suspected. After poking around for a little bit I did the one thing I hadn’t done yesterday that I knew to do–jumpered the fuel pump from the diagnostic block on the harness. It fired right up and didn’t die! There are still a few more quirks to work out, but this is HUGE, and I’m elated.

Originally posted here.

As soon as I picked up Rebekah’s candle to bring it in here, the wick disintegrated in two, and sunk into the pool of wax. *sigh* It was wonderful while it lasted–a homemade coffee bean candle in a grey mug, quite cozy.

Merry belated Christmas. Now for my fourth (!) annual update…

It was the first time I hadn’t spent the night before at home; in other words, I stayed at the apartment until Christmas morning, then drove over at 8:30 or so… Everyone was already up of course–especially David, who was very up and excited, and had already staked out his spot in front of the tree for the distribution of the gifts. I received a funky-looking clock for the wall, a nice set of flare nut wrenches (tools), a dual 500W halogen work lamp w/tripod, bunches of clothes (a good thing), a set of big bowls, several utensils for the apartment, a George Foreman grill, two tickets to the flight exhibit at the NCMA, Zooropa, Pop, the Foo Fighters’ The Colour and the Shape, and a Norah Jones cd. I was very happy and grateful. I told my relatives the fact that I have an apartment now must making gift-giving a bit easier… They agreed. Living in a bachelor pad means we don’t have quite a few amenities that most of you might take for granted. We do have a plunger, though (inside joke; ask Donald).

Paul and David came over later on and we watched The Boondock Saints, and while the movie has great music, I can’t vouch for the quality of the rest of it, except to say that it is somewhat thought-provoking about motivations and reasons for extreme acts. Great nuggets of completely over-the-top acting, too. Gary Oldman would feel right at home in this film. Oh yeah, and the f-word and its variants were used 246 times throughout the movie (courtesy imdb.com). I learned some new ones.

No KC trip, it’s looking like. Matt Everson was the only person interested in going, which drove up the hotel cost considerably, besides the driving and time commitments, among other things… I’m more than a little bummed. But it’s all for the best, I think. I’ll be able to man the sign-up table on Sunday for the Car Care Saturday at the beginning of next month, instead of having to get one of my guys to do it, and I’ll be able to go to Heather and Leslie’s New Year’s eve party, and just have more time with the family…

So there were reasons both ways. Part of me feels like I really wasn’t moving in faith, like I didn’t believe that God really wanted me there, in Kansas City, attending the conference, but another part of me feels like sometimes we commit to anything and everything without choosing our battles and events and such… I don’t know.

Aaron’s been wanting to go skiing in WV during break, just a day trip, probably to Winterplace or Wintergreen. Anybody else up for it, maybe Monday or Tuesday? For those of you elsewhere in the country, we could meet you there…

I can’t work today. I’m going to come in possibly tomorrow or Wednesday for a bit, even though we’re technically closed. Today is…not happening. I feel jumpy again, keyed-up, uncomfortable. There are a lot of things weighing on my mind, some good, some less so, but all recipients of a fair amount of emotion, more than they should probably be. I was feeling within a shade of the same way last Thursday, but I went for a drive with Leslie and talked everything out… Somehow that always helps me. My feelings are always far too intertwined with my circumstances, I’m convinced.

Christmas party for the youth leadership team tonight that I’m not sure I want to go to. This is definitely it–if there were more parties than this in the season I think I’d have to start declining. I’ve reached the threshold. I still feel ambivalent about how well I fit in with them, but it bothers me less now than it did, though you’d be hard-pressed to tell a difference. Thinking about it, a lot of it just comes down to group mechanics in general and how well I relate to that, since thinking about each of the youth leaders individually, I feel quite comfortable. And I catch myself again–it’s like dancing, you don’t think about it, you just do it. I overanalyze my life away. It’s funny how I always count on reason and sensibility to be my solace when the situation makes me uncomfortable. Like if I just think about why I’m feeling this way, and rationalize that away, everything will be fine. Yes, that’s worked grandly in the past. But I’ll make it. My mind is jumping around too inconsistently for me to be able to offer anything of substance this afternoon anyway…

Moving to new BT. Sure, it’s completely synthetic, but it’s progressive, sweeping, and has more warmth than your typical run-of-the-mill vocal trance. I dig it.

Got all my shopping done in about three hours, as predicted, and had a great time with Donald to boot. I don’t usually enjoy malls, but it wasn’t terribly packed, and we worked in some talk about and shopping for our Europe trip, which colored the proceedings with a hint of expectancy, to make it exciting.

Of course I didn’t shop for Donald, since he was there, and I’m going to make cards and mix cds for certain people, but the actual shopping is done. I shan’t divulge what I got people on the (very slight) chance they might read this, but I hope they’ll be pleased.

I very rarely spend such quantities of money in one evening, and my penchant for music took advantage of it for a bit, as I ducked into the music store intent on a cd for myself. I was looking for Innocence Mission, since I had listened to them at another store a while back, but had opted for Over the Rhine instead. I almost got Mazzy Star too, but my natural frugality caught me and I walked out… I need to find out what’s good by them before I go for the cd. I’m sure I’ll like it, but… I dunno. I need to drop by Schoolkids again so I can find what I really want. Best Buy and Walmart just don’t cut it for the obscure stuff. Well, that and I need to make a list before I go in, since anything I had solely in my mind evaporates completely as soon as I walk in. Same principle as in a video store.

It’s been a good day. I slept very well last night, and long, got up when I wanted to, took my time getting ready for the day, printed out the Christmas cards, went back to my parents’ house, folded all of them (a surprisingly zen-like experience), drove back to the apartment, made myself some ravioli, took a (hot) shower, made my list, shopped with Donald, returned, watched SNL, and here I am. Nice. I feel…clear. Wide-eyed. Good.

I think I should probably start on my Christmas shopping. I can be a remarkably efficient shopper when I want to be. I predict that if I sit down for half and hour and ruminate solely on what to get people (i.e. not simply working the train of thought into another activity), I can put together a basic list, and with three or four hours of judiciously picked shopping time, can have presents bought for most everybody. That’s the plan, at least.

Thank you all for the kind comments. I tend to lapse into that state whenever the small things pile up to such a degree that I can’t help but be overwhelmed as my mind jumps incessantly from one thing to another, and I don’t deal with tasks individually… Well, between that state and words spilling out before the things I know about myself had a chance to catch them. Things are never quite as dire as I think, and often not even close.

At this point the only two people going to Kansas City for New Year’s are myself and Matthew Everson, a younger guy in the church (I feel ancient when I say stuff like that). I don’t know him all that well, but I suppose I will after a day and a half in the car with the guy. Heh. I love roadtrips in any shape or form, I’ve decided, and the drive out to Kitty Hawk last Saturday only whetted my appetite. I just wish some of you were more directly in our line of travel. We’re leaving from KC on the 1st, it takes 16 hours to get back, and I have to be at work on the 2nd, so… Not much time for a detour of any significance.

Ever have one of those conversations where everything you say is sort of right but your tone of voice and timing are so completely off that you might as well have been talking jibberish? Yeah.

I want to buy that motorcycle.

why am i suffocating?

Don’t try to fix anything; just listen. Said the pot to the kettle.

I wish I had stories to tell.
I wish I were comfortable in larger groups.
I wish I could hold peoples’ attention for longer than 30 seconds.
I wish I didn’t bumble around when I talk in groups.
I wish people were comfortable around me.
I wish I knew how to act around women.
I wish I were spontaneously funny.

Sometimes I feel so inept. Artless. Clueless. Bumbling. Misguided.
Sometimes I wish I weren’t me.

I shouldn’t compare myself. The grass is always greener, etc… But when somone can walk into the office and hold the attention of the entire female staff for half an hour, who still aren’t comfortable around me after 9 months, it’s hard not to feel socially inadequate.

It’s just a transient thing. Don’t mind me.

I feel sad. No, not that kind of sad, but pathetic sad. I got in to work late today on account of the movie last night, so I’m still here, which doesn’t bother me too much… I’ve always been able to manage okay by myself (i.e. being sent to my room was never really an effective punishment as a child). But my energy swings have been something crazy–one minute I’ll be squirming in my chair with excess energy; fifteen minutes later I took a nap for an hour, head in my arms on the desktop, college-style (heh). Weirdness.

I’ve firmly decided that I’ll never get used to having feelings. They’ll always unsettle me.

Dead tired. Just got back from seeing Return of the King. Awesome movie. And I don’t say that lightly. It does the book justice in the important areas, I think. See it :o)

Walking to lunch today I stepped into a shallow strip of gravel in the parking lot where the asphalt had been pulled away. Somehow it reminded me of the cinder blocks and mortar present at construction sites in France that we (my brothers and I, being boys) would climb over, like houses next door that were going up. I saw the sky again on a spring day, eerily half-covered with impeding storm clouds, and felt the first gust from the knife-edged cold front. I remembered closing the shutters outside the downstairs windows before the Mistral blew through the valley, flipping the painted iron catches, pulling the shutter to, and latching it. It was the first time I’d ever had floor lamps in a living room, and I remembered how they lit up the terracotta-colored walls and the blocky tiles in the floor. I remembered the sharp, white stone of the wall by the driveway and the grasses in the unkempt yard next door, big tomatoes in Dad’s garden and bottle rockets in the backyard, Sundays watching the parasailers drift down the mountainside as we ate on the patio, and the brittle, earthen tiles on the roof…

Then I walked into the restaurant and ordered my food.

David is back home for Christmas after his first semester at NC State. Brought his computer back, too, with a little program he somehow acquired at college–an NES emulator. It came with basically every single Nintendo game ever made, too… This is bad, folks. I wasted about 2 hours earlier tonight playing Super Mario Bros. 3, and a couple of hours on Friday playing Battletoads. All my games are there… Tecmo Bowl, Mega Man 3, RC Pro Am, Zelda, Bubble Bobble, Micro Machines, Contra, Gradius & Life Force, etc etc. It takes me back. I feel like one of those twentysomethings buying the old Atari 2600s to relive their younger days when Mom and Dad wouldn’t let them play until they finished their homework.

Drove four hours out to the North Carolina coast yesterday, Kitty Hawk, to be precise. The “Celebration of Flight” is taking place until the 17th, when the replica of the Wright Flyer will retrace the original’s flight, 100 years later. It was great fun–like a glorified air show, with aerobatics, exhibits, presentations, and lots of parked airplanes and helicopters for us to gawk at. I came home with a ton of brochures and stickers. David drove with me, and we had a great time together. I told him it felt like I was making up for lost time not spent with him this semester. We ate at Jersey Mike’s, sat in the Coast Guard helicopter together, listened to Tonic in the car, and got pulled over on the way home (I only got a warning, though–there’s something to be said for not incriminating yourself when the trooper comes to your window). Had a grand time.

This morning I’m assailed by memories of two summers ago, when I was in Florida, alone, and later out of work and more alone than ever… The Jars of Clay song “Silence” is going through my head, just as it was then, but only in my car, driving to and from church in Jacksonville, 45 minutes each way, just driving there, attending church, then driving home, the same every week. Sometimes (often) it would rain, and the quiet of the car surrounded me at a stoplight as the clear ebb and flow of the song washed through me. I remember the feeling exactly… The determination, the veneer of soldiering on glossing over the fact that the right question could topple me entirely. I didn’t know where to go or what to do… So many things were in flux, and the uncertainty isolated me more than ever, since I had always treated friendships like the icing of life, something to be pursued and added after everything else was in place, and my ignorance of how to strike up an easy friendship, especially since I knew I would likely move away from that place in short order, surrounded me like a mantle in those midsummer days. Night after night spent sleeping on the couch in the living room, some days not even venturing to brave the rain. It’s not like I didn’t keep up with myself, keep up with life, but if you had caught my eye you would have been met with a distant look.

Last night I dreamed about the warmth of sleeping next to someone, my arms around her, my breath gently moving against the crown of her head. Waking to reality was like a cold wind blowing through me.

I’ve had oddly frequent instances of belly button lint lately. Dunno why.

Just thought I’d share.

I am officially going to say “no” to anything else that comes up this month that I might be tempted to organize–with the possible exception of a Christmas party at our apartment. I think I’m already in over my head, but I’m going to do everything, dang it…

The car still needs fixing. I’ve taken the wiring harness off but things have progressed at a snail’s pace from there, mainly because my motivation is quite low and also because wiring issues are something I don’t particularly savor as far as working on cars is concerned. Speaking of cars and the church Saturday morning car group that several regulars actually make it to, we’re finally going to do a Car Care Saturday. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but at the beginning of January it will take place at last in the church parking lot, several hours on a Saturday morning of changing oil, carwashes, minor mechanical work, and advice/diagnosis for the single moms and single ladies in the church (or anybody who wants to come, really). I’m psyched but it’s going to take some planning.

Apparently I’ve decided that my New Year’s celebrations have been too sedate in past years, since somehow I volunteered to lead an expedition of youth and older churchgoers to a four-day conference in Kansas City that stretches from the 28th all the way to New Year’s day. This is the real deal, since it costs a significant chunk of change when you factor in everything, not to mention the driving’s going to be a bear… But it’ll be fun.

I honestly don’t know what happened this month with all the spontaneous busyness. I think it will be good for me, though.

In other news, we went tree shopping Friday night and picked out a doozie. Not cheap, but very well-proportioned and no bald spots anywhere, not to mention just a few inches shy of the apartment’s ceiling, perfect. I was able to get hold of some white lights, and I bought a few strings of beads, but I only have two ornaments. Anybody want to donate any superfluous ornaments? It’s for a good cause… I should take pictures of it… It’s a lovely tree.

I hadn’t felt an earthquake before until just a few minutes ago…then the buildling started quivering slightly like an enormous truck was passing outside, but without the noise–just a quiet but ubiquitous shaking. Turns out we were feeling the tremors from a 4.5 magnitude earthquake whose epicenter was just outside Richmond, VA. It was quite a peculiar sensation.

learning to breathe
learning to crawl
learning that you and you alone can break my fall

Why is it that I hate waking up? I’ve taken note of this, and even on days when I know I’ve gotten enough sleep, dragging myself out of bed is invariably an arduous thing. Every time. And I always know just how tired I am by how long it takes me to overcome the immediate “get back in bed” urge. I think perhaps if I got more sleep on a consistent basis matters would improve. Possibly.

We’re going to go tree shopping for the apartment in a day or two. My parents’ house is already treed and decorated–the earliest we’ve ever done it (I think the latest was less than a week before Christmas one year). As soon as we figure out where to put it in the apartment, scare up some lights and ornaments and decorations, I think it will really brighten the atmosphere in there…not to mention smell wonderful. That’s one of the best things about Christmas, no doubt.

Watched Finding Nemo last night for the first time. Great film… I particularly enjoyed the bits with the shark support group, the little French crab, and mount Wanahockaloogie. It was all great. I was somewhat dissuaded from watching it initially when it came out in theater because of the surfer turtles (didn’t find them funny at all), but they weren’t overkill and turned out to be kind of cute. Ah…so good.

Need…caffeine…or something. Dangit. Where’s a soda machine when I need one? Shouldn’t they be at my every beck and call? Speaking of…did you know… That evidently several dozen people were killed in this state alone by soda/vending machines? Use your imagination to figure out how. Found that statistic amusing. Which is bad. Mostly bad.

Okay. There’s soda in the fridge–I just checked. Probably flat as a pancake, but y’know… I guess I’ll just have to decide how desperate I am. Not very desperate if I’m sitting here updating instead of pouring myself some, or better yet, working! Yeehaw.

Um, good morning?

There are few greater pleasures in life than mashing one’s fork down upon the last few gathered crumbs of Aunt Lena’s No-Fail Chocolate Pound Cake.

I had gotten everything hooked up, and after splicing about 25 wires last Wednesday and spending almost all of my free time the rest of the week and Saturday debugging the TPS and MAP sensor wiring, I got the car to a point where it would start, rev to 1500 for a few seconds, then die, without my touching anything. If I tried to keep it alive with the throttle, it would just die all the more quickly. I wired up custom harnesses, bypassing the main harness from the sensors in question to the ECU, to no avail–same deal.

It was clear a couple of days ago that the harness on the car, pre-extended by a gentleman in California but of questionable quality, had a short or a crossed wire somewhere in the loom, not to mention the glove box area was a rat’s nest of splices. I had visions of wrestling with the harness for a few more days, getting the car running for another week, then getting inexplicable electrical issues that put the car out of commission for months or worse, damaging the engine. I did not want this. I had spent about 30-35 hours on the car in the past week and was getting extraordinarily frustrated at its lack of cooperation. I had a couple of options:

1. Go standalone. MoTeC makes aftermarket ECUs that would adapt to the 1JZ, and the Haltech E11 will actually even use the stock Toyota coils, ignitor, CPS, and include a base fuel map, enough to get me to the dyno so I could work the rest of the fuel and ignition curves out. The processors inside either unit are light-years ahead of the ~1990 programming in the factory ECU. Going standalone is arguably the acme of my tuning goals–it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.

2. Pull the existing harness completely off the car and rewire everything from sensor to ECU, doing it right, no splicing, but solid wires, shielded where necessary, soldered, heat-shrunk, and zip-tied. This has the advantage of being free, minus the wires and such, and I have wiring diagrams and pinouts already for the ECU. It also doesn’t require any tuning after the fact. Double/triple check everything, hook up connectors, and turn the key. Hopefully.

3. Triple blow-through Webers, a la early Esprit Turbo. Just kidding.

So it looks like no.2 is the way I’m going. I don’t want to have to take off the upper intake manifold but it looks like I’m going to have to.

On the plus side, I’ve gotten a set of mk4 550cc injectors (straight drop-in w/resistor pack) and mk3 Supra-specific coilovers for really cheap. The shocks are gone on them, but hopefully that should be a simple matter of finding replacement cartridges. Also, for the little time the engine was alive, the car sounded beautiful, what with the 3″ HKS downpipe and GReddy catback. Very deep and powerful–nothing raspy or tinny about it at all.

Originally posted here.

nightmare

What a lazy Friday afternoon. The ladies (those that are still here, at least) have congregated in Betty’s office and are talking away whilst I still here and attempt to be productive for the last hour or so. As you can tell, I’m not trying very hard…

My finger’s healing very rapidly, which is nice, especially since I can do the dishes again. I don’t know what it is about that activity that I like so much… I swear I have some repressed obsessive-compulsiveness. It’s just relaxing to put on some music and unload the dishwasher, reload it, and clean up the appliances and countertops. Come to think of it, that doesn’t sound terribly abnormal, does it? Laundry and other chores, on the other hand, are pure tedium.

I’m cruising along in my current state of singleness, reasonably content for all intents and purposes, but when I really get down to it, when I’m honest with myself and think about the matter without whisking my mind away to another thread of thought as soon as it alights on those feelings, I do want someone in my life. Well, not just someone, but her. But maybe that’s my problem, right? Too much idealism? Too much hesitance? Who knows… Regardless, at the moment it’s just an idle musing, a curiosity of my life, and nothing that resonates.

Trying to get the ball rolling again with our (Aaron’s, Donald’s, and my) trip to Europe in the spring. We had meant to meet up with one of Aaron’s friends who had done it before (taken the trip we’re pondering), but hadn’t got around to having dinner with her and talking about the particularities of her experience. I think we’re going to next week, though. I’m determined this isn’t going to be one of those things we’ll say we’ll do but we never do. Coming back to the theme of the previous paragraph, maybe we should hurry before any of us get a girlfriend, eh? Might put a slight kink in the plans :o)

Wasting time over lunch today, putting together my Christmas list and poking through allmusic.com for albums that I’d want, I realized I wanted more music by U2 than anything else on my list. I thumbed through the song listings and biographes and such, recognizing the songs I knew, and thinking about the impression that I have of each album as a cohesive piece of music, an artistic statement, I thought what a great band they are. They have a distinctly Beatles-eque ability to communicate complicated ideas in an unswervingly poetic fashion, without losing sight of their characteristic sound and feel… Besides they just wrote some great songs. Through the sweep of their career, at least for me, their individuality in the face of musical trends, their redefinition just on the cusp of mainstream music gives them a larger-than-life quality that separates them from comparison with any other band, really, except the standards, the bands that wrote music on their own terms and sustained their artistic integrity. As far as a rock band only the Beatles really compare to any degree, in my mind. And honestly, without pandering too much, I have to give credit where it’s due, and Elyse’s admiration of them really gave me insight into the fact that there was something more to the band than the average Top-40 one hit wonder act… and encouraged me to examine them a bit more closely. So thanks :o)

First frost this morning–rather late in the year…but welcome, in spite of the bitter coldness. Even the bedroom was frigid. I have a pile of blankets over my feet as I sleep (I hate cold feet), so the early, crisp morning seemed doubly unwelcome on account of my burrowed-down warmth. But I only whacked the alarm a couple of times before I got up… And here I am.

Okay wow, I just got a raise.

Um, thanks God :o)

stay, and the day would keep its trust

Brisk day. A cold front whipped through last night, bearing torrents of rain for a few minutes as it blasted overhead… But today is clear and sharp-edged.

I endured a bout of extreme frustration last night…to the point where I wanted to take a brick through the car’s windshield. Not really, but for a minute there…. you know. I’ve spent around 30 hours over the course of the past week trying to debug my car’s wiring harness, which is somewhat custom made and kind of sketchy from the get-go. I thought I had everything figured out last night, but it wasn’t the case, just another miss in a long string of misses. So I threw in the towel, drove home, and played some angry guitar music very loud in the computer room… Felt marginally better. Today is an improvement, but… part of me just doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Frustrations… At least I have a four-day weekend. And a God who is good and for me.

How can a sports car driver ever be happy with their car?

Sports cars, by and large, are about speed. Speed in the twisties, or speed down the strip on a Saturday night, even speed to a halt (braking). But here’s the thing many of us realize, especially after embarking on our car’s modification program: There will always be someone faster than you. There will always be cars that cling to the corners more tenaciously, are more direct in their responses, and hook up better off the line. How does one reach automotive contentment, then? How can you be really happy with your car when you’re annihilated at a stoplight race or humiliated around the road course? Can you be?

The key I think is to own a car that is special to you for reasons unrelated to pure speed. A car that agrees with you. A car that feels like home when you sit in it and lets you breathe more deeply when you sink into the seat after a hard day at work. A car that makes you smile just tooling around town at 25 mph. A car that is your car.

I used to ponder the owner loyalty of cars I was familiar with–the FB, the Z-car, FD, the mk4 Supra, etc… and why for example many, many first-gen RX-7 owners will hang onto their cars through thick and thin, whereas more than a few mk4 drivers go through a couple of cars in a year–and I think there’s more at work than simply the financial ability to buy and sell cars frequently. For a lot of owners there’s something the FB has that the mk4 doesn’t (and vice-versa of course), counterintuitive to many of us who are acquainted with the latter car’s prowess, and I think those subtler qualities are lost on a lot of the performance-fixated automotive community.

We’re all addicted to speed, sure, but that intangible special quality of a car we’re really attached to is beneficial in more than one way, I think. It’s that knowledge, that feeling, that promotes a sense of contentment when we’re approached a light and revved on and we decline to go, just knowing that we don’t have anything to prove. It’s that knowledge that makes us humble about our cars, and fosters an atmosphere in which we can genuinely appreciate others’ cars without getting defensive. We see our car’s flaws, to be sure, but somehow they’re okay; they’re inconveniences cheerfully borne.

And that’s what made me keep the Supra. With the addition of a few mods, I felt myself getting caught up in the Great Speed Race, uncomfortably so, and wanted an “out,” another car where it might be easier to sense its other endearing qualities upon an initial drive, and I immediately gravitated towards my first automotive love (the FB). But then I realized I could have that with the Supra too. All I had to do was to re-experience what made the car special to me. It just took a moment.

It was a cold night when I slipped into the perfectly contoured seat, surveyed the dash, with all the controls and switches ideally placed. I turned the key, the car started with an elastic smoothness and settled down to a rock-solid 700 rpm idle. I flipped the lights on; the headlights popped up and the gorgeous analog gauges were lit up with a pleasingly pale green. I gripped the thick steering wheel and rested my hand on the shifter. Everything felt substantial, solid. The car just fit me. I thought about the way the car looked and the image that projected–not the flashiest, most curvaceous body style, but understated, well-proportioned, and attractive–and I thought about my own self-image. My impression of the car and my concept of what I wanted to project lined up perfectly. It agreed with me; it was home–and I wasn’t even moving. After that moment even the metallic rip of the inline-six up to redline and the whistle of the turbo on the way home were just fluff–the car and I shared a bond deeper than raw speed, and any thoughts of parting with it were pushed from my mind.

What makes your car your car?

Originally posted here.

if you could only see the way I look at you, you might believe

My day is perched on the edge. That’s all I can say about it; that’s all that I feel right now… I can’t really explain the feeling either, since it’s this random jumpiness I get sometimes, and the fact that it’s settling upon me on a Friday afternoon, with the weekend looming, doesn’t make it easier to bear. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way… Maybe it seems like so much in my life is in flux at the moment? I think the key word in that sentence is seems, since what I’ve been blessed with is quite stable, and God will take care of me anyway… It’s all a matter of viewpoint and perspective.

I wish I had a group to hang with sometimes. Wait–let me rephrase that. I do, but I don’t feel entirely comfortable with them, and I’m not sure why–every rational reason seems to point to how I should feel when I’m around them, I mean, they’re the youth leaders and the car guys–we have loads in common, we go to events and do stuff together, but somehow the walls are still there in a capacity that’s lamentable given how open I’ve been with other groups in the past. But maybe I should just take it all in stride, as it’s probably all in my mind again anyway. Time.

I need some time with Him. I can feel where my priorities are at the moment, and it’s not where they should be. No guilt, just a realignment…

Low, grey clouds scurry across the sky this morning under the surprisingly warm breeze… It feels like the last gasp of fall before the first frost sets in. Blustery, windy… A storm is imminent.

I don’t know how I made it up this morning and into work. I think I just kept moving. I was going to email Lauren and let her know I’d be a little late, but the responsible side of me grabbed hold and made me pull some clothes on, brush my teeth, and sent me out the door. Drove to work, bleary-eyed, listening to NPR news…

do you ever wonder?
do we ever care?

Your fire burns me like a favorite song
A song I should have known all along
I feel you move like smoke in my eyes
And that is why

Severely unmotivated this morning… I think it has something to do with the little sleep that I’ve been getting lately. I get home at 1 and it always takes me a while to come down and prepare for bed–I can’t just crash. But I’ll survive. At least my stitches came out yesterday. Susan snipped them while at the Gazette yesterday morning. Didn’t hurt at all, but the last one did pull a bit. Otherwise they were all ready to come out and were very cooperative.

My eyes are heavy with tiredness. Something in me wants to write and write and write, but something else has no idea what I’d write about. I could expostulate all day on the usual topics, and be nowhere because of it. Why is it that I think somehow the more I write or think about something the more likely it is to happen? It’s like I have subconscious delusions of superpowers–telekinesis and the ability to cause events with my mind. But come to think of it, no superhero I’ve heard of ever had that last ability. It’s definitely Godlike.

Haven’t written any poetry in a while. My muse has been absent these fall months. Speaking of months… November draws onward into December and the festivities therein. I look up and realize what time of the year it is, then think about family and friends and events planned and preparations and decorations and everything… Some people relish it, and I do, but in my current state of mind it’s all froth. I’m craving simplicity, peace, stillness, and not rushing to enjoy myself. If there was ever a contradiction of priorities, that’s it… I have pictures of grasping ornaments softly, hanging them gently in the low light of a floor lamp, reading on the sofa while a record plays on the turntable. I have the capacity to adapt to the hectic frenzy that I’m sure I’ll be caught up in soon enough, but for now I’ll just enjoy the momentary visions.

David’s team lost their soccer game earlier this evening to Maryland. So barring a miracle, NCSU won’t get a bid to the NCAA tourney this year… David was dazed; I could tell. Don’t know if the reality of it all had set in yet. I’m sure he’s devastated, though–I’d be, even as a freshman with three more years to look forward to, as he has. It was one of the ugliest games I’ve seen, with rampant fouls, name-calling, and boisterousness from the crowd. But it was good to watch the game in spite of everything, even if we were freezing up in the stands. I found my scarf earlier this morning, so that helped, and the toboggan completed my winter insulation (above and beyond the normal coat and sweater, that is).

Had Chinese with Dad after the game. David I think was going to debrief with the coach and then spend some time with Amanda. I really enjoyed hanging with my dad–we hadn’t done that in a while, and the food was good too. I had shrimp and chicken stir-fry and we talked about his recent trip to Europe, my prospects in just about every arena of life, the necessary physique for eating at Bojanges, the youth leadership team, and the girls he dated before he met my mom… Among other things. It was just… really really good.

Apparitions around the Carolina Inn as I was driving to the Gazette this morning stay with me… Purely surreal. Don’t know quite why it comes between me and the screen, but it does. It shouldn’t, but… I can’t reason with the feelings that wheel around inside almost instinctively. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Good.

Somewhat later, here I am. Went to Subway for lunch, picked up M&M’s (the crispy variety) from HT for the dispenser we have here at the Gazette office, drove back, endured the frustrations of Scott and Dan (our staff photographer) over a photo we can’t use for the front page anymore because the subject, playing basketball, thinks he looks too “intense.” Ah well. We’ll figure something out. Petty things. All of it.

Cards and cider, wings and wonders.

Quiet afternoon at the Gazette. It’s only a 12-page issue, with no inserts, not a billing week, and I don’t have any pressing assignments besides, so it’s been slow. I exchanged Scott one of my pitas and some hummus for a Coke earlier, so I’m feeling more alert than I normally would after lunch when the food is settling. We listened to some EBTG, David Gray, Depeche Mode, and now Enigma on the iTunes playlist. As you can see we’re doing things somewhat alphabetically, or at least staying in the d’s and e’s. Yes, it’s slow, I’ve flowed all the copy in, and Scott’s going over the printed layout now. I should be home soon. How about now?

I don’t do well not having breakfast. Grar.

And growl (that’s my stomach).

maybemaybemaybeyeah.

Minor swap progress, since my hands were absolutely trashed Monday night from bolting the turbos back on the 1JZ. Looking at it sitting on the garage floor got me thinking about engine appearance and attractiveness, specifically, which engines I found most appealing just by looking at them in their cars’ bays. I narrowed it down to a top four, in no particular order:

1. Series 1 Jaguar E-Type 4.2L inline six, with the polished cam covers
2. Skyline R34 RB26DETT (gives the impression of a great deal of sophisticated mechanism crammed into a very tight space)
3. Second generation 1JZ-GTE
4. BMW 850CSi S70

I think the common link between all these, besides that they’re all multiples of six cylinders, is the look they have of pure mechanical efficiency, rather than raw, brute power. Granted, some of that feel is necessary too, but the primary link between the top four is one of effective engineering.

For me a lot of it has to do with how much of the engine I can actually see. I mean, does it look like an engine? This is why rotaries will never make it on the list–while I have nothing but affection for those engines, they’re so compact and buried under their assorted vacuum hoses and manifolds that the actual substance is hard to find. Not just rotaries, though, as other engines like the ’70s-’80s Jag V12, while impressive technically, just don’t look the part. There’s also a trend nowadays, and rightly so, of incorporating more plastic into engine design, what with the development of plastics that can withstand the heat cycles and chemicals present under the hood. They’re used more often for manifolds and intake piping and especially engine covers, and while practical, from a design standpoint this just doesn’t do it for me like being able to actually see the cam covers or a few cast aluminum intake pipes. There’s nothing like metal to give the impression of substance.

If there’s one constant I’ve noticed among particular brand nationalities, it’s German engines, VWs, Audis, but especially MBs and BMWs, and the absolutely rigorous organization of the accessories and mechanical bits under the hood. I get the impression that each peripheral and accessory could go no where else in the engine than where it is–there’s a definite purpose to every placement.

Side note: Interesting how our affinity for a particular engine’s appearance stems in large part from the power output we know it can conjure on any casual foray with the right foot. At least, that’s how it is for me. I tend to feel better about an engine I’m examining if I can stand over it and make revving noises. I suppose I’ll get a life one of these days…

Originally posted here.

Why does it seem like the more I tell myself my dream is actually reality the more likely it is to be untrue? Had another flying dream last night… The one constant among the ones I’ve had is that it seems to be a matter of belief–if I believe I can do it, and overcome the self-consciousness of the silly mechanism used to initiate it (jumping up and down, running and leaping into the air, clutching a special card, etc), I lift off the ground and take flight. Last night someone else I saw in my dream had overcome her hesitance, jumped up, and began floating a few feet above the ground. It was the catalyst I needed, and I ran and lunged upwards. I fell down, but progressively my leaps began to lengthen until I finally jumped and didn’t come down. With less than a thought I rocketed upward above the cloud line and looked down at the patchwork of green below, elated. I told myself this time it was real; I could carry this with me and the ability wouldn’t leave. Then my alarm went off…

Youth group was a struggle on Saturday. Jeremy (the youth pastor) wasn’t there this week, but that wasn’t the issue. I just feel like I have no ability to relate to these 9th-grade guys, and nothing to offer them. I tried to inquire about what’s going on in their lives only to be met with stone-faced silence. I attempted to get a discussion going about the fall retreat two weeks ago and the things God did there, but no one would open up, even after my lead. I then tried to teach them how to play Loser, a card game (incidentally Stephen’s favorite), and not an unexciting game at that, but all they seem to want to do was go to the bathroom, sit on each other, and kick each other. Maybe they’ll settle down at the year progresses? Regardless, I need to sit down with Andy (my co-leader), and plan things out. We haven’t done that yet and I don’t think winging it is working. The silver lining to the youth meetings lately is that I’m getting to know some of the guys on an individual basis a lot better, like James, a blind kid that I help out quite a bit and hang out with when I can. We talk about his cell phone, his love of Mountain Dew, and I tried to explain to him at length the possible offensiveness of the word “pimp.” I think he got it… He wants to hang out with me at the Wendy’s across the street from the church in a couple of weeks (since we have bowling next week).

Ben and I are getting along really well too. He’s a junior and somewhat removed from the rest of the youth group…kind of geeky, like me, and I think that’s where our common thread comes together. The catch is that he’s a physical guy too. Case in point: We were playing two-hand tag football at the youth retreat and I was running the ball around the left side. He was on the opposing team; I had almost made it past the defense except for Ben. He could have just tagged me to bring the play to a halt, but instead decides to just absolutely take me down, which he does with flying colors–I haven’t been head over heels in a while. He said it made his weekend :o) We have fun quoting Monty Python and Spaceballs (“Say goodbye to your two best friends, and I don’t mean your pals in the Winnebago!”), talking about his fencing and other stuff. I really enjoy him. I should let him know.

Went to a hockey match last night with Dad and David. My dad works for IBM and has a friend in marketing who has third-row season tickets, so we could see the checking face plants up on the glass in exquisite detail. It was a tie (1-1), but at least the ‘Canes scored their only goal in the second period, when they were going our direction, so we got to see the whole play that preceeded the goal quite well. It was good to see David again. What with college and soccer and a girlfriend he’s been more than a little busy lately. But I suppose I have as well. We make time for things that are important, and I need to make some time for him. Maybe this week.

Saw Revolutions last night. Good show. I thought it was a great action movie, but I was somewhat disappointed on a philosophical level, though I suppose it would have been hard not to be given the way my expectations (and I imagine those of most every other reasonably internet-savvy Matrix fan) were raised with all the theories and expostulating flying back and forth over the months since Reloaded. But the trilogy concludes in logical fashion, in the only way it could have happened. I just wish the action element of the film hadn’t overshadowed the symbolic elements as much as it did. I did feel this way after seeing the second movie, though, so I hope after another viewing the details that underline the theme will be more apparent. I think they will. Warning: Compared to Reloaded, there’s less sex, and more violence. A lot more. And less cool techno music, slightly disappointing.

My finger is healing rapidly. Thanks for your prayers. I worked on the car for a good couple of hours yesterday evening, with a bandage on my pinky to remind myself that it was injured, and my finger actually felt better afterwards than it did before; quite miraculous. If all goes well, provided it doesn’t rain, I should have the engine out tonight, step one of the swap. It’s actually the easy step, but I’ll deal with the others as they come.

why’d you love me in the first place

Thoughts of the past today, people, places, events, things said… It brings back an uncommon wistfulness and a length to my stare, lost in memory. Failed relationships, things perhaps irreparable but still uncertain. It’s all uncertain; everyone’s unsure, but there are somethings I held to so tenuously the bonds still exist, only buried under time and stripped of the immediate turning away so close to the moment of separation, distilled to their ideal expression. And they pull on my heart. Reams of what-ifs, responses to those, the conjuring of unlikely scenarios, the anxiousness looming over a new movement of my heart. Everything’s a risk, everyone has imperfections, it’s just…will the ranging of my emotions ever subside enough to let Him work in situations? Where is my patience? God. I just want to know.

stealing away on a sunny day

Can’t believe it’s November already. The slowly-encroaching coldness taps me on the shoulder in the morning with the ever-increasing need for more layers… The leaves blow around my feet, but around midday the atmosphere has aligned itself more closely with the pleasantly warm autumns one imagines during the summer months, wishing for any respite from the heat. The air has just a hint of grass clippings from lawns mowed less and less frequently, and every few houses during a run through the neighborhood or a drive with the window rolled down I catch the scent of a fireplace giving superfluous, but welcome, assistance to a central heating system. Ah, suburbia.

I cut my pinky really badly yesterday afternoon. Working underneath the car, I was pulling on two parts when they gave more unexpectedly than I had anticipated, taking a good chunk of my finger along with them. I needed five stitches. It’s swathed in a large wad of gauze at the moment, and makes typing more than a bit challenging, as ‘p’s and semicolons, as well as the enter and backspace keys, and hard to reach. It should heal quickly, though, provided it doesn’t get unduly jostled in the meantime.

Halloween was entertaining. A little group from the church (mainly youth group leaders) joined the other 78,000 people who descended on Franklin St. (the main drag in Chapel Hill). I dressed up as a lobster and even got a few hollers of “Hey, crab-boy!” or “Yo, lobster!” It was fun, and not too cold, which was undoubtedly fortunate for the myriads of girls dressed up as hookers or just out in rather revealing clothing. Some of the costumes were amazingly creative.

Gotta crank out a few more Gazette pages. More later.

Had a lovely late evening of stargazing last night out at John’s parents’ farm. It’s a bit further removed from the light pollution, so it was cold, dark, and clear, so much so that you could see the Milky Way, no small feat for those of us living closer to civilization. I pulled out my slightly battered Newtonian reflector (non-motorized, all manual–old school), and found a few things in the sky, among them the Pleiades, the Orion and Andromeda nebulae, Mars, and Saturn (the telescopic highlight of the evening). The original occasion for our excursion out into the countryside were the Aurora Borealis, which were supposed to be uncommonly clear and vibrant due to an atypically violent solar eruption, but they didn’t show themselves. Donald and Rebekah did see quite a few shooting stars, though. I was too geekily engrossed with the telescope until the end to just gaze at them, so I didn’t see any, but just being out there again was quite wonderful.

Is the place where they make chocolate a chocolatery? Or a chocolatorium? Or maybe it’s just a chocolate factory? Willy Wonka! Yes!

I will now apply my more-than-ample mental powers to more pressing issues such as world peace and hunger.

Drove through the rain earlier to return an unneeded car part so I could have enough cash to eat lunch… I have $3.50 in my checking account. Not the worst it’s ever been, but I’ve still been cutting it closer to the wire than I’d like lately.

Even the air is grey today. The rain hangs in the air, suspended, and clings to you and you walk through it, little beady droplets that thicken the occasional breeze. I crashed at home last night, since I was doing my fourth load of laundry and my latent tiredness just overcame me. Cleo was very hospitable and curled up on the chair next the couch, where I slept underneath the green and blue comforter I haven’t slept under in months. It was quite cozy.