Last night we saw Ivan & Alyosha open for Rosie Thomas at the Hotel Utah in SOMA. The Hotel Utah happens to have a bar inside of it that happens to have a cavity in it. Someone looked at that cavity, which is substantially smaller than our apartment, and decided to jam a tiny stage in it, cram a few chairs in front of that, and then let thirty people sardine in behind the chairs.

Yes, you can fit a stage inside of a bar inside of a hotel, but the result is more novel than practical. It is the equivalent of a turducken. And though the space is a bit awkward, we enjoyed the concert.

As I purchased a beer at the bar, I noticed that one of my fellow concert goers had a to-go box of Chinese food. And I really wanted to buy it from her. I didn’t want to buy it because I needed dinner. I wanted to buy it just to baffle Laura by returning with some random stranger’s Chinese food.

I’ll give you $10 for that Chinese food. 
Why?
Because I have $10.
Okay. If you really want it. But you have to recycle the box.
Deal. 

She returns to her friends…

Jenny, what happened to your Chinese food?
I sold it to that guy over there.
Why did you do that? 
He had $10.
He doesn’t look like someone who would recycle.
I had the same thought! 

Meanwhile I return to Laura…

What are you eating?
Chinese food.
Why?
Because I bought it.
Do they sell it at the bar?
Nope. That girl over there does.
You can’t keep eating food from strangers*! You’ll recycle the box, right?

(* A friend had a birthday at a pizza parlor. I love pizza crust and I didn’t know most of the people. But I trust the friends of my friends, so I spent some time convincing these stranger-friends to give me their unwanted crust.)

Then anytime I spotted someone with a to-go box of Chinese food, I’d buy it. Eventually Laura would turn to Dear Abbey for help.

Dear Abbey,

My boyfriend keeps buying to-go boxes of Chines food from strangers. I’m not appalled, but I find the behavior concerning. And I think he has started doing it when I’m not around. Also he has started to carry low-sodium soy sauce and a pair chopsticks with him at all times. How do I address the issue without making him mad?

Sincerely,
Chop-stuck.

I have tried to write a new blog post multiple times over the last three days. Each attempt has been fruitless–Bradford pear fruitless, but without the dank smell of pollen. Typically when this happens I write through it (the writer’s block, not the pollen), and a common thread appears between the paragraphs. Then I rearrange the paragraphs into an acceptable perfection.

Lately I sit down and find myself uncomfortable (the apartment is too warm, my chair too hard, the penguins too distracting, etc) or I find myself to restless (my desk is too cluttered, body eager to move, or I can’t focus on a topic). More accurately, I feel a bit unbalanced and therefore bored and unproductive.

A few months ago, in a moment of introspection, I asked myself two questions: How can I feel more healthfully balanced? What makes me interesting? Both are good questions with a nice introspective bite that started a long string of thoughts.

On the question of health, I first divided health in to three types:

• Mind (Mental) – Bettered by Learning, Solving, and Remembering
• Body (Physical) – Bettered by Exercising, Eating Right, and Sleeping
• Spirit (Spiritual) – Bettered by Expressing (i.e. forms of art) and Meditating

Then I decided to focus on one aspect of each health for an uninterrupted 20 minute period a day. For aspects that don’t fit neatly into 20 minutes, I decided to exercise them whenever the situation allows. For example, I might do 20 minutes of puzzles, 20 minutes of exercise, 20 minutes of art, eat right, and go to bed on time.

Finally I realized that each type of health can be combined with another in a way that lets: you more thoroughly enjoy the world, you help others, or others enjoy you.

• A healthy mind and body allow you to take part in adventures.
• A healthy body and spirit allow you to be at service to others.
• A healthy spirit and mind allow you to express yourself in a creative or passionate fashion.

On the question of interest, several thoughts came to mind. First, having an interest is moot if you don’t exercise the interest. Second, the things I find interesting are things I admire. Third, I don’t exercise my interests enough.

From there I began to couple my interests with aspects of health. For example, I try to walk to work every morning (health), which takes 45 minutes. During that walk I either spend my time lost in thoughts (meditation), listening to podcasts (learning), or doing language tapes (learning).

I’ve lost some of that balance lately and am eager to get it back because I know it makes me more agile.

And if anyone is interested, I try to listen to a different podcast each day: “You Made It Weird” (interviews with comedians), “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me!” (game show about current news), “Mike and Tom Eat Snacks” (a humorous review of popular snacks), “This American Life” (stories), and “Radiolab” (where American Life is more about the stories of people, Radiolab is the stories of science).

It is fascinating to push a science or technology to its furthest limits because when you start to reach the edge of those limits everything you know is challenged. That transformation is what makes technology fascinating and ignites curiosity, and that ignition is responsible for turning my passive interest in Formula 1 into an obsession. 

Nothing about a Formula 1 car is normal or simple. To demonstrate this, I think it is reasonable to presume that to some degree a steering wheel indicates the complexity of a car. With that in mind, here is what a NASCAR steering wheel looks like.

Overall, that isn’t a complex steering wheel. It is similar to the bland, boring steering wheels we’re all familiar with. Now compare that steering wheel to a Formula 1 steering wheel:

That wheel is insane. Although most of those buttons and dials do not directly control steering, their presence indicates the number and complexity of systems that must be conducted by the driver. And if that much design goes into the steering wheel, imagine how much advanced technology goes in to the more complex parts and systems, such as the engine, gear box, brakes, tires, helmets, goggles, and such.

A massive benefit of those technologies is that the sport has become easier to watch. Although I would have found the technology of any previous F1 era fascinating, I would have found the sport too heartbreaking because prior to about 1983 the sport lacked much safety and drivers’ deaths were not uncommon. The previous eras were lethal for drivers and surely a wrenching time to have been a fan. Today the most recent driver death in Formula 1 occurred 18 years ago–Aryton Senna in 1994. In the 18 years prior to Senna there were 7 deaths. And in the 18 years before that there were 29 deaths. If losing 1 hero can be a tragedy, then losing 29 is utter devastation.

When my Dad actively followed Formula 1, Jimmy Clark reigned driving a Lotus. Of his 72 races in Formula 1, he started in pole position (first place) 33 times and won 25 races. Sadly, he died during a race in 1968. I can imagine how sad that must have been for my Dad and for the other fans. I am thankful to be a fan when vast improvements in safety have been made. Most likely I will never experience that loss as a fan. And I am thrilled to be a fan during such a period of excellent competition. This year is rare because 6 of the current contenders are former world champions and to see that many champions at once is incredible.

For anyone intrested, my favorite drivers are Lewis Hamilton and the legendary Michael Schumacher (although Schumacher really should have stayed retired). And my favorite teams are McLaren Mercedes and Mercedes. Yes, two different teams have the name “Mercedes”. And for anyone not interested, my favorite drivers are a Yoshi and Toad.

Stacks.

I don’t like them. In fact, I hate them.

I’ve never seen a stack of something and thought “Good job! Well done.” No. I see a stack and think and know “That person has no idea where anything is. I can hide donuts in there and that person will never know. If I ever need to plant evidence, this person is an easy mark, especially if I need to plant a type of unglazed donut.” (Glazed donuts hold finger prints more easily, which is why powdered donuts are the preferred donuts of the criminal underworld.) 

Some strange part of me enjoys organizing things. Not that I have an odd appendage or third hand that autonomously organizes things as I go about the day, though it would be convenient. Rather, I find it satisfying to organize things or more specifically I enjoy designing systems, and organization is the expression of an underlying system. For example, three things I am very good at are: architecture, computer programming, and creating board/card games, though unrelated in many degrees, are highly similar in that each is a type of organizational design.

I keep things pretty organized around the apartment (my desk does reach a “critical mass of crap on it” once a week). But Laura specializes in making stacks. All around me are little stacks. Taunting me. Distracting me. Daring me to hide donuts. Daring me to look for donuts that have been stashed and forgotten about.

While I have passion for creating systems, Laura has a passion of creating cairns out of all her possessions. I need to start buying her things that don’t stack well (penguins, elliptical machines, or overweight gymnasts) or that stack exceptionally well (goats, those competition stacking cups, large limestone blocks).

We officially kicked off the start of wedding season, and the first wedding we attended happened in San Diego, as two of our favorites friends wed. We’ve been to a ludicrous number of weddings, and never before have I seen as much fun and laughter on the altar as at this wedding. A very delightful couple indeed.

After the ceremony I continued my garter catching streak. At some point I need to stop catching the garters, because if police raid the apartment they’re going to have me psychologically profiled over the collection (not that I’m busy preserving them in glass cases like a butterfly collection). I have enough that I can probably make a dress suit entirely out of garters (the complete opposite material of choice compared to Buffalo Bill). And people thought that leisure suits were a bold statement. And with weddings coming up in May (Brazil), July (Oklahoma), August (Texas), and October (Boston), the garter collection might grow enough to allow me to also make a top hat and/or cape.

This wedding had two unique things from most weddings. First, the DJ did not play the Chicken Dance song. This is good. It is sad that people are hesitant to dance to an incredible song, such as Etta James singing “At Last”, but they can’t get on the dance floor fast enough when they have to dance like a chicken at increasingly faster speeds. What happened to our dignity, white people at weddings? Second, they had a photo booth. And wherever there is a photo booth, my goal is to be in it the most. Here are the best of photos:

Kinder eggs are the best. They’re a delicious source of both chocolate and, perhaps more importantly, toys. Inside each egg is a yellow capsule that contains a toy. And it isn’t a crappy, let down of a toy like you find in McDonald’s Happy Meals, but a quality toy.

Sometimes the toys are a bit uninteresting, but they’re always good.

A co-worker gave me an egg on Friday, and inside I found a rather marvelous 21.5cm by 18cm glider cleverly packaged in to that tiny yellow capsule.

Genius.

Pure German Genius.

Tonight I embarked on a leisurely quest to read my blog from the earliest post to the present over the course of the next few weeks.

I’ll be honest and admit that I find the quest to be equal parts pleasure, pain, and penguin. To read them is like venturing back to a literary hit-and-run accident that I’ve fled (apparently for good reasons). I return to find myself guilt stricken and embarrassed, especially since the earliest posts often read as though I had hired a sixth grader to ghostwrite. And even then that borders on giving my writing too much credit.

However, I do look forward to my later posts where I know there is a more developed sense of direction (that’a'way), style (less typos) and purpose (fame?) to this place and my writing. And I’ll enjoy re-encountering some of the great memories, stories, and incidents that have been documented and tucked away in the recesses. But first, I must slog my way through the crap.

And if you ever decide to take up the quest, be warned that I mention listening to Coldplay too often. And that is because I have probably listened to their first two albums more than anyone else on the planet. I don’t mean that as a broad generalization. I literally mean that and not “literally” used in the wrong way (“the donuts were so good that I literally sold my dog in to slavery”).

I mean that I played those albums back-to-back, on repeat, without end for semesters. At one point I had played the two albums, in their entirety, over 3,000 times. At a total of 1 hour 36 minutes 12 seconds for both albums, that converts to a tiny bit more than 200 days. At one point I had listened to them so much that I would become physically ill if I heard tracks from either album. And I’d estimate that I’ve played the albums closer to 4,000 by now.

I’ve become fascinated that most of us have never had to make a difficult decision. Yes, we’ve all made decisions that felt difficult at the time, but most likely those decisions had little more than a superficial impact on someone else. I am not sure if I can think of a more fortunate thing.

Such good fortune is due to a large combination of good luck and privilege for most of us. Though neither will continue without break, I hope they do continue in abundance for everyone. I hope that we will never have to:

• Decide where to hide from a lethal enemy
• Make decisions of triage
• Choose which child to feed today due to a lack of food
• Pick the soldiers to be sent forth
• Determine whether deep down Pluto is still a planet

However, I do hope that most of us get to make some of the more pleasant difficult decisions that are of a lighter nature:

• Whom to marry
• What city to live in
• What name to not give your child
• What name to give your child
• Which version of Monopoly to purchase

I don’t yearn to make difficult decisions, but thinking about their often long absences in life highlights how odd it is that we devote more than a fleeting moment of thought to lesser decisions. Hell, we often don’t even have to make complex decisions. And keeping all of that in mind allows for simpler decision making, such as should I go to Brazil for a wedding? At first, I thought perhaps not. Then I remembered how often that choice never presents itself and how fortunate I am that it has been presented. So yes, I will go!

Other recent decisions that I could have made in less than ten seconds but debated internally:

• What color to play as in Settlers of Catan? (Red)
• The number of nights we will spend in Brazil? (Eight)
• Which flavor of Häagen-Daz ice cream to buy? (Vanilla)
• What book to read next? (Blood Meridian)
• Whether to make more popcorn? (YES)