Teapot was Tweeting

I wrote that I typed up my notes and concluded that I wouldn’t be going to the galleries but would try.  I had dinner with the parents and then got a text from my buddy saying I should go to the Jazz Center.  I rode to Opera Plaza then and locked up.  The bike area was a mess of old bikes.  I was alone at Peets for a bit and noted that Teapot was tweeting from Smugglers Cove.  I told my buddy to meet me there and walked over.  When she arrived we walked to the Center and did some catch up.

We got a drink and then went to the Joe Henderson studio where her married friends were sitting.  She had tickets from her membership and made it clear that she needed people to go to the shows.  The studio had these great windows that allowed the street to see the show.  Adam Shulman did the Duke’s Money Jungle.  My buddy was waiting for her date to show up but he didn’t make it in time to get through the door before they started.  I tried to remember the set list so that I could look at it later.  My favorite was Wig Wise.

We went to a bar on Hayes near Laguna and had appetizers.  I was the odd man out because I think my buddy anticipated Ben being unavailable.  Her friend appreciated my presence and her husband was hard to interpret.  However, he is affable when the conversation is about something that he finds interesting.  His wife expressed interest in learning more about one of my friends.

We then dropped the husband off at their house and continued to Rickshaw—an all ages club.  I didn’t really want to go but the girls are regulars and so we got in for free.  I had a drink and watched the teenies dance for a while.  My buddy was were getting along with her date.  Her friend predicted that my friend knew about the corset store and then guessed that she was going to the Edwardian Ball—she is a smart lady.

I walked down Van Ness and saw a very simple man ask for money.  The way he said it made it clear how vulnerable he was.  My standard reaction is to redirect interaction to conversational small talk because displaying money on the street or lingering in one place too long are both dangerous.  However, I was really concerned about the ethics of my reaction.  I got the bike and climbed Pierce and took a gamble crossing Ashbury.  I was in bed around 1215.

On the morning of the day that I wrote this I slept through an alarm and three messages.  I was up at 12 and as I was sipping coffee discovered there was no paper.  I called one of the recruiters and turned down an opportunity in OK.  A lady from my normal lunch spot in Walnut Creek wanted to know why I wasn’t coming in anymore and I told her I wasn’t there anymore.  Then I interacted with a recruiter from the day earlier and he said that a job he had at Autodesk was a good lead for me.  We agreed to speak the coming Monday.  I then went to Java to read the paper.  I interacted with a lady from Grass Valley who had lived locally before and was passing through on a road trip.  A twitter friend Roach mentioned to others that he was filtering my tweets but didn’t name me.  This has lead me to be skeptical of our interactions.  I also revealed a lot about myself to one of the baristas and decided that since I was doing so that I probably didn’t care what she thought.

I went home and did laundry.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.

Interact with a Celebrity

I wrote that I typed and then walked around the house and talked to mom about cookies.  I ended up lying in bed for a bit and then decided to give up on resisting the urge to go to the Uptown since I had passed up the Butter Lap and Car Free Happy Hour.  I left then and climbed up Irving and headed through Hugo.  Cops were looking around at Citibank for something while I was getting cash.  I think I had a problem somewhere on Page but not much.  I took 14^th and rode to the Uptown.

I sat alone at first and eventually spoke to a regular I knew and she said hi.  One of my buddies came in then and we talked about getting laid off and eventually talked about art.  The bartender I knew was in the East Coast for some reason and the bar was being transferred to the bartenders.  The lady behind the bar was trying to optimize stock based upon the estimates in the deal so she could save to organization thousands on the cost.  My buddy introduced me to a regular that lived nearby.  He and his wife were looking at real estate in Napa.

I left then and got a message from my friend.  She was saying thanks to me about checking in with her.  Her cat had cancer and had to be put down.  I was really sad for her and she was upset.  She told me to come by—I had an allergic reaction while there and had had a bit to drink.

On the morning of the day that I wrote this I took her to Four Barrel at around 930 and we had pastries.  I told her I was going to Ai Wei Wei.  I then saw Andy Thornley as I rode up the Wiggle—there were some odd interactions.  I was pissed afterwards because it looked like I was trying to interact with a celebrity.  However, I was actually trying to slow the car behind me down while passing a double parked UPS truck.

I rode home then and read the paper.  At some point I was interrupted because I went downstairs and tidied and returned to discover that I hadn’t finished it.  I later sent some texts to Tom.  I later got a call from a recruiter and we spent about an hour discussing a job prospect.  I noted later that it wasn’t good for the compensation but he sent me another lead later.  Charlie and I spent some time discussing our feelings

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.

Yell-y Scream-y Guy

On January sixth I wrote that I had asked my friend in North Beach to come with me to my Bike Party friend’s birthday get-together because they had both gone to my HS but she said she wouldn’t be headed to that part of town.  I took my Santiago/Taraval to 26^th to Forest Hill and descended down O’Shaunessy to Elk and Chenery.  There were two guys from Bike Party there and the other guy was a bit older than I.  In fact, he and I were the oldest ones there.  The birthday boy had his band mates and there was also a couple he knew and their girls friends.  The Glen Park is run down—we saw a rat and the girls thought it was cute.  I bought his friend a beer.  There was live country music up front.  I gave everyone an Emperor’s Campaign flyer and one random guy at the bar said he was a clamper.

I hung out for a while and when everyone but the band had left I realized how old I was and wondered what I was doing there.  I was getting another beer when and a new guy showed up.  He had previously worked at the ferry building and looked really familiar.  After I finished that beer I left the guys to their darts and took the same route home and was in bed at 1130.

Next morning I was up at 9 when my old boss called.  I told her that my computer was with the Assistant Director.  I lazed about for another two hours and was upstairs around 12 having breakfast.  The parents both sat down with me.  Dad asked about cable and mom about second breakfast.  I went down and started typing, reviewing emails and listening to the radio.  I got a call from Enterprise staffing in reference to a new job at the company.  I told him to email me.  At one point I returned upstairs to have a snack and then went down to edit.

I had noted many times that I only need to take my normal steps for the week—clean, type, review, blog—because I knew how to get to the job search.  I started on my unemployment insurance application.  Nora had texted me about mom and dad.  I told her about contacting Nicole.  I sent my resume into the company.

Mom and dad had gone to a doctor’s appointment and came back and made dinner.  I read the magazine and they told me the appointment had gone well.  I went back to editing but gave up and worked instead on some forms.  I was going to go to Hayes Valley but decided to watch TV instead.  I was in bed at around 1130.  I tossed and turned and fretted about my situation, status and future.  I ended up trying to visualize my frontal lobe and eventually went to sleep.

On the morning that I wrote this I was up at 930 and the internet was out.  I texted dad about it.  I also weighed myself but neglected to write it in my note book.  I went to Java Beach then and read the paper.  I called the company recruiter and he had nothing positive to say.  After looking at Twitter and FB I made plans with Alcatraz people and then went to 45^th and Lincoln to head out to the Bridge via Fulton and 16^th.  I thought to myself that my job search would turn out fine.  I noted that I would likely have to be unemployed for 6 months before the company would hire me again.

At the Bridge I saw the musician I knew that worked there and told him I would look for him on FB.  I noted that they were installing a new divider on the Bridge and the bike path/lane was closed.  At the vista point I noted some guy’s iPad was in a precarious situation and on the descent to Sausalito I passed a bunch of cars.  There was a yell-y scream-y guy in Sausalito.  I dealt with it ok but in the future I need to improve.  He called me a tough guy.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.

Park Route to Central

I wrote that the day before I had passed through the living room to talk to mom about my posts to FB and then left to see the Imitation Game.  I left the iPod at home because I didn’t want to deal with my thoughts on the ladies I had met over the weeks.  I knew I had done the right things in those situations but wasn’t satisfied.  I took the park route to central and then took Turk etc. to Kabuki.  While parking I noted some guy was not using the rack correctly but he didn’t care.  I went upstairs and got some drinks and smuggled one into the theater as the ads were playing.

The movie was layered.  Mostly it takes place where and when the action is but there is also a boyhood struggle and an-after-the-arrest portion interspersed in the story as needed.  These parts coalesce into an after the trial part that forms the epilogue.  I finished my beer and gnawed on my nails the rest of the way through the film.  I rode home then to the Page and sat at the bar and watched SNL.  I talked to the new bartenders.  I took Page home and was in bed at 2.

On the morning that I wrote this I was up at 830 and decided to just go to Java Beach instead of traveling across the bridge because I needed to do my typing.  I sat and looked at the paper and then reconstructed three tweets from other people on FB, which were especially fun to watch get attention.  One of the people that I followed on Twitter made a comment to me that caused me to delete a post—something I am loathe to do.  Two friends on FB got into an argument over a post on design—a surprising outcome.

One of the ladies from the previous few weeks got back to me but it wasn’t positive.  I was incredulous of her statements but only said a very nice “certainly” because that was a polite thing to say.  I noted that she probably thought I was awkward.  In the meantime I noted that one of her friends had commented on the same post that my friends were arguing over.

I rode home after a few coffees and the news was done.  I conferred with my Bike Party friend about his birthday get together at Glen Park Station and then did some room cleaning.  Eventually I started typing and made a bunch of trips upstairs. At dinner I told the parents about my interpretation of the market for spatial data and the companies that I knew of in that area.  I noted that I had tweeted to the additive manufacturing professional I had met on NYE.  I finished writing and headed to Glen Park.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.

Had Bourbon Until Late

I wrote that on the way out of the office I asked a bunch of people about leads for jobs and then sent some emails.  Then I cleared out my station and brought my computer to the assistant general manager’s desk because the floor warden had gone home.  I rode to PHill on the canal and then took the train to Civic.  It was around 230.  I hadn’t had lunch yet so went to Park Chow and ate.  I had been obsessed with my iPod because of New Year’s but after all of the let downs I had given up.  There were a lot of ladies at the counter having drinks.  I had a sandwich and spoke to one of them.

I rode home then and knew I had a couple of hours so I straightened stuff.  I saw mom and dad on the way out.  I went to the Park and down to Civic Center and as I was going down the escalator I made an ironic remark to a lady with a bike that people with bikes are not allowed to ride it.  I found the lockers on 19^th and started towards the party.  I stopped to asked a city worker about finding a liquor store but wasn’t very successful at finding it.  I found the house just fine.  The host and her roommate opened the door and my old coworker, a fire engineer, poured me a glass of bourbon.  I made small talk with his closest associate, another fire engineer visiting from Chicago, and I introduced myself to a tall professional dabbling in additive manufacturing.

Later I was grazing when there was a commotion at the door and most of the party goers went to it.  The man they carried up the stairs was in a wheel chair.  I noted that he had been an expert at the building I had just stopped working at when I worked down the street.  He told me that his concept of the data operation, which I had been involved with at that time, was essentially beyond his comprehension and he didn’t seem to think that it worked the way that it should.  Later I was sitting with the fire engineers as they discussed their wonky pursuits when the additive manufacturer and I discussed his business.  I provided him a critique from the Rogers perspective saying he needed to work on defining his idea and networks of communication.

This was around when a company man arrived.  I had been enjoying the punch and interacting with the host’s best friend and the engineering pool when he and I got to talking in the dining room.  He told me that he worked for the GIS director—who sat across from my previous director in the hierarchy—and said he wasn’t impressed with how IT worked at the company.  I noted that it seemed that from the day of the tragic incident forward the company hadn’t been doing a very good job because IT was separating the business from its core operations.

Upon further reflection it seemed he was saying that the core of the business was almost entirely run by IT rather than the field technicians and managers that do most of the work.  IT had basically engulfed the center of the company’s operations and would not let the business side participate in any IT oriented project.  Essentially, whenever the business side of the company makes data and they are QA/QC’d the experts never actually touch the final product.  I have since surmised that would have a knock on effect with regulators.

During that conversation we migrated to the kitchen and by the time we had finished talking I had found some tasty Belgian beer.  Eventually we had found our hats and whistles and had our shoes on and were ready to go to Mua—the bar down the street.  We went in two groups because our wheelchair bound friend had come down before us.  It was really cold.  I made friends with ladies at the bar and our group of 12 had to work out getting drinks in 45 minutes before the minute hand hit the top of the clock.  I bought my hosts a beer and we went to the dance floor.  I got a free glass of champagne and as the night wore on I realized that I hadn’t needed a date after all.

About 130 I had had enough fun and decided to thank everyone for a good time and left for the all night BART service.  I took the bike down to a lonely platform and later fell asleep on the train.  At Civic Center I rode up Page and onward through the cold night.

I remember the next morning I awoke to memories of the ladies from Saturday night and thoughts of asking one of them out.  I was still in bed around noon when a lady I knew sent me a message.  We interacted while I ate the pancakes mom had left over from the morning.  We agreed to take a bike ride to the beach.  However, we ended up mis-communicating about where we would meet.  I ended up drinking coffee at Central Café watching people rise from their New Years revelry until she sent me a message that she was near the windmills with her friend.

I checked both of the windmills before finding them curled up near a log with a bed sheet in the freezing cold waiting for the sun to go down.  I lay there cuddling with them for the next couple of hours left til night fall.  I listened to how they had gone out dancing the night before.  The other lady, an additive manufacturing executive, had received an engineering degree from MIT.  She was waiting for her husband to return west to California.  The temperature fell quickly in the failing light and we rushed to the Chalet to get warm, have a beer and commiserate.  I noticed my old classmate form SF State Geography was working.  We had trouble at the bar and the service was poor but the meal was ok and I did a fair job of impressing and accommodating them.

We got on the bikes and rode through the park.  I noted that that was a real adventure.  At one point I gave one of them my gloves because she was clearly in need.  I noticed our engineering friend—like others I knew from the American South—liked to sing to herself.  I tried to lead them through some of the hard parts of the Wiggle but based upon my friend’s choices I could tell that she was capable of navigating the terrain.  This is interesting in retrospect because of the way that she seemed troubled by place names.  At her place we got together with her roommate and had bourbon until late.

The next morning it was evident that, though it was the Friday after New Years, our engineering friend still had to go to work.  I met more roommates in the course of getting up and moving.  I took my friend to breakfast and we walked around in a giant stupid circle because I was not capable of planning.  We eventually ended up standing in line at Four Barrel where I had trouble parking my bike and realized that we were listening to Meat Puppets.  Some lady asked if I was Dan while in line and a dog came out to lay on the ground with us.  While we were talking there I basically ascertained that we enjoyed each other’s company.

I rode home up the Wiggle then and discovered that my brother and his wife had returned from Central America the night before and were out with mom.  I noted that I realized all of a sudden that I had to go to Bike Party as well.  I got busy with the small things as I had not done much at home for several days.  I was drinking a cup of coffee when the family returned and I helped my brother find neighborhood thrift stores.  When they left again I took a nap and dad fell asleep and forgot to put potatoes in the oven.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the ladies I had met before New Years and was clearly conflicted about them but knew it mattered very little.  I got up for dinner and after eating, my brother, his wife and I went to the Shamrock.  They took the bus and I rode my bike.  There we talked about their land and my job prospects.  The bartender kind of ripped me off and I saw one of the regulars on the way out.  I said bye at the bus stop.

I rode to Steiner and Chestnut—the drop down from Alta Plaza was exhilarating—where I found the green Bike Party flag.  I noted that it was like they were waiting for me.  My friend hailed me and I immediately saw the guys.  We arrived at the Palace of Fine Arts and I walked around.  I saw some people from SF Park—a now defunct city program.  One of them insisted she didn’t remember me and they left pretty quick after I talked to them.  I eventually asked my friend about his Tweets regarding Todd Rundgren and SF liberals.

After that we rode to Polk Gulch and up to Alta Plaza.  I spoke to one of my lady friends on the way up and her boyfriend steered clear of our interaction.  I told her that it seemed like a reporter we both knew on FB was reading my blog.  Later her boyfriend said “Bike Party is fun!” and I smiled.  At Alta Plaza I talked to a couple we all know about their engagement and talked to the guys about stuff.  The other well-known married couple was absent.  One of the guys noted that he might go to Glen Park Station for drinks on Sunday.

I sat a moment feeling dejected around then.  I had all these friends around me and all I could think of were specific ladies with whom I had had a good time.  I was also reflecting on the fact that I had once again been laid off.  One of the guys offered me a beer in passing and I passed it up.  We descended to Fulton and onward via the Western Addition to Children’s playground via the Fifth Avenue Park entrance.  I interacted with some lady on the ride telling her about the area and my family’s heritage.  At the stop I said thanks to everyone and went home.

On the morning of the day that I wrote this my sister-in-law sent me a message saying that she would mail me my Christmas present.  I got my stuff together and rode to Java Beach.  I interacted with all of the baristas and talked to a couple of ladies.  I read the paper and saw a bartender from Visuvio.  I went home at around 3 and did laundry.  I broke up my papers then and sent a communique to my old coworker.  I send a message to an ex-girlfriend that I had her book—I had been putting that off for years.  She said I could get rid of it.  I asked one of the girls from several days before that wanted to see her at some point.  It seemed that she was considering it because she actually looked at it instead of ignoring my message.  I also made plans to see an old friend from HS on the next Tuesday.  Finally, I bought tickets to watch the Imitation Game at the Kabuki.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.

My Last Trip

On the thirty-first of December I wrote that the day before I had spent a lot of time trying to figure out what to do about a date.  I rode the wind swept and cluttered canal path to PHill and discovered that the wind storm had slowed BART to a crawl.  On the platform waiting I bumped into a friend from Bike Party and we spent the train ride talking about our lives.  He got off at Embarcadero and I went to the Palace Hotel to check my messages and discovered that my Bike Party friend had had an incident in his cab and posted it to FB and one of the people we had spoken about on the train had immediately made a comment.  I sent her a friend request.  I took an N home stopping at 23rd to transfer.  At home I made my dinner and read the magazine.  Mom and I talked about her health and I had to reflect on that a bit.  I went to bed after watching TV.

On the morning that I wrote this I was up at 830 and went to the 18 and took the N to Powell.  I got coffee and a banana and then took my bike out at PHill.  I thought several times that this was my last trip.  I rode to the office in a rote fashion.  I sent my friend a text about going to his NYE party.  I went to Srtarbucks and returned to the office and started to pack up to leave.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.

Giving Me Mixed Messages

On the thirtieth of December I wrote that I went to PHill and was still really high from the messages I had received since the weekend.  I, of course, was trying to not put a lot of meaning into them but it was a bit like drinking a bunch of alcohol and not knowing I am drunk.  I put the bike away and at Powell the bus wasn’t coming so I crowded into an N and transferred to a 71.  It was freezing out.  I talked to mom in Sonora and got groceries.  I made tacos at home and sent my sister and friend messages.  My friend was apparently going on a date and so I told her about my lady friend.  I posted and watched TV and then went to bed.

I was up at 730 on the day that I wrote this and was on the bus at 8.  I took the train to PHill and reflected on the fact that my contract had ended.  I rode to work past some older riders.  The trail was a mess from the wind.  Later, at lunch, I noted that I rode to Daphne’s but they had gone out of business.  I went to Sweet Affair instead.  I interacted with my old coworker who invited me to girlfriend’s Party.  I ate a pastrami sandwich and went to Peets battling the crazy wind.  I interacted with twitter people and noted that my friend in Oregon had commented on something so I posted the image that I had received from the weekend to Twitter and FB.  Then I shared it with a bunch of people from college and a bunch of people liked it.

I noted then that the lady I had been talking to about New Year’s had already made plans for Wednesday and didn’t extend an invitation to me and I was upset about that.  I noted that I would have to go to the party alone.  I also noted that she really was just giving me mixed messages.  So I simply gave up on her and the idea of having a date.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.