Now and then one must, is why. But why? Well, at this moment I just have a lot of disjointed thoughts I don't feel like virtually tweeting on Fussbook.
INTC is over 30, but I read it's due to companies refreshing their PC base, and since we know the PC is dying and that we still struggle to make it big in mobile, that stock price won't last. I need to sell all the INTC I can and buy something else. The problem is: What?
I like the Motley Fool except they're fucking annoying. All these teases for what might be the next big thing but to find out you have to watch a video. Why the hell do they do that? Is there some subliminal message they need me exposed to? The tease that got me was, what company makes the technology Apple is going to use in their next big thing? See, if Apple is going to use it, then maybe we should too; and meanwhile maybe I should invest in it. I'm really tired of expecting to end up poor, but I cannot stop spending money and start saving significantly, for far too many reasons to blog about, so I need to be smarter about making what money I do have work for me. A few years ago the big secret investment was IGNMF (Imagination Technologies) because they make (or made) the display IP Apple uses and by the way we were buying their IP too and integrating it into our products. A few years ago some people I know made good money off that. I made some too, though not much, as I came in late. Then I sold it all and I'm glad I did because it's now worth about half what I had bought it for. So that's out, but something else is in and I don't know WHAT!
I ran this morning, 2.3 miles, out the door and up the street and down along the riverfront bike path. I left shortly after six of a lovely summer morning and it felt terrible. My body's external shell of recycled beer and donuts bounced and lurched most distressingly, I couldn't get speed, and I couldn't wake up. Even after the run I could have gone right back to sleep. It felt awful and I was passed by some pudgy middle-aged guy and all I could think was, fuck, I need to do this a lot more.
I have my gym clothes today but not my weightlifting gloves because one of them accidentally tagged along last weekend when we went to a burner-yuppie-hippie event at a nudist camp and though I left it in the RV I haven't yet found it in the RV so I lack a glove and if I lift today it will be without gloves.
What? Also, I haven't been to the gym in weeks if not months and I don't run but every week and a half or so and I must say that drinking is not any more fun than having to suck in my gut in order to not look so obviously my age, all of which means I really ought to be seeing improvements from this point on. My excuses for not developing a Conanesque physique are wearing thin.
After all these years I still don't really like coffee all that much. For breakfast today I had a bag of oatmeal and a Nature Valley bar and a stupid-expensive fruit smoothie and feel no less awake than if I'd had the usual cuppa hot-watered caffeine beans.
I really want to force the time and get to work on that trike but the kids like driving it so much I'd feel bad taking it away. If, no no, when I do, I need to convert it really fast so we all get it back again.
I want a fridge for my bedroom and I want a solar-powered ice chest for that thing in the desert and this means I should solve the latter problem and just plug it in to a DC converter for my bedroom. Someone at the shindig last weekend told me about a scheme whereby a small top-loading freezer is given a fridge-temp thermostat and that works well because the cold air doesn't spill out, so great, there's another project for July.
Here I am doing this when there is work to do and I have to leave early today because my mother has a medical appointment that precludes her driving herself, but, you know.
Last weekend was great fun and very relaxing. The nudist colony aspect only meant that we could spill out of our clothes or wear less of them or whatever without having to feel like we were doing some sort of radical self-expression or any of that, it was just a natural part of the atmosphere. Most people, of course, kept themselves dressed. Place like that, the only places you're required to be nude are the pool and hot tub; and whatever you're thinking, stop it, there were children present.
Here at work the cafeteria has a couple projection screens set up with the World Cup going on but I haven't been following it, I'm not so much a bandwagonist and don't really want to take the time to know what's happening. Meanwhile the Giants have lost eleven of fourteen and yet are still in first place.
Game of Thrones is fun to watch but the book hasn't grabbed me so much. Granted, I can only settle down to read now and then and feel fortunate to read a full chapter when I do. But just as the show has become something of an R-rated soap opera (i.e. we're mostly drawn in by the ongoing drama between various people), the book has the sort of quickly-written feel you get in modern thrillers and bestsellers and just doesn't evoke the poetry of the age. For simple reading pleasure I much prefer Tolkien or R. E. Howard over G. R. R. Martin. But of course I'll read the damn thing and if I ever simplify my life and dispense with enough of my broad-ranging ambition to focus on writing I will have learned a thing or two by reading it.
At this time I am not more interesting in writing than in making mobile art or helping and enabling my artist or even pretending to make music. The other day I actually blew some long tones on a trumpet. It was not an encouraging exercise. Just to play the simplest tune well I'm going to have to perform purely physical exercises for quite some time, several months at least. It's no fun when you sound like you're playing a bucket.
But we must do what we do. Now I must do some of my job. Remind me to put in a limit order, this INTC bubble cannot last.
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6 comments:
I revise my GoT comment. It is enjoyable to read. It's very straightforward, as conventional fiction should be, and there's no harm in that.
A thousand things to do -- you should see this room -- but I just can't be bothered. I am so tired. It didn't help that I had a late lunch decreed by circumstances to be fast food. Something they put in fast food enervates me. I then took my mother to the gastroenterology department at Kaiser Roseville and fell asleep in the waiting room. I never do well from naps. Once I fall asleep I'm no good upon waking until I finally get a full night's sleep, however many hours later that might be. Meanwhile it's been classically Sacramento hot with a good bit of overcast and humidity thrown in and let's face it, after all that, I'm fucking worthless.
There's three good words for the tombstone.
I go to the gym few times/week and do a couple miles on the elliptical cuz it's the only thing that doesn't hurt my back. Can't jog or ride a bike. Oh I am sure a bike exists that is at the right angles for me, but why fuss when there is already an elliptical machine? And I do some situps and leg whozits. Nothing for arms because neck. And I see other people doing So Much and think... why the fuck am I bothering, but I do bother, and it's good.
I can't think of anything less erotic than sitting around naked with a bunch of other naked ppl while we're nomming up nachos and drinking beer, talking about GoT or whatever the fuck. Meh!
The most interesting tombstone I ever saw was in the Carson City graveyard in Nevada. It was well more than three words but I doubt the drunk who lay buried there personally penned this epitaph himself. One got the curious impression that perhaps his wife commissioned it and it must have cost a pretty penny. Whoever wrote it, there, etched in stone for all the world to see... for-evar... it bore witness to what a total shithole, asswipe alcoholic loser they thought he was. Of course I photographed the hell out of it, but then could never find the photos. Perhaps, in the on-going gun battle between them, now from beyond the grave, his ghost snatches all the photographs people take of it? Anyway, I went back to take new pics but, try as I did, could never again find the stone.
And Paula, yeah. I work out too, several times a week, and bike in the "real" world, bad back and all. I swear, it's the only reason I'm still mobile, that and a helluva lot of stretching. I even like doing it these days, mostly, but that took years. By nature I have the temperament of a gecko. Left to my own, I'd just hang around on a rock or wall and chirp. And yeah. Sitting neked in a pool gobbling nachos and swilling beer with a bunch of other neked folks sounds dreadful to me too.
No, nothing erotic about nudist camps. It says something about us that we even think of it. But then we see a typical resident, whom you could say has a great body if your standard was set by a bloated tick, and realize it's the youthful Burnery visitors who've added any sort of element. There was a naked young woman at the pool with a perfect athletic body and the kind of tits that are clearly either enhanced or are why some women get them enhanced, and she had two or three or four male admirers (I couldn't quite keep track of the crowd) whom she was not at all averse to being touched by. Clearly there was a lot of openness in action. But the touching was almost innocent. All we did meanwhile was either get carried around romantically by me in three feet of water or chat with people; people whose best years erotically/visually speaking coincided with the Reagan Administration. The place was clearly valued by people who enjoy the relaxed friendliness that is inherent when common nakedness desexualizes the body and everybody becomes just a person, a mind, a heart, rather than the untouchable sexual being we so often instinctively become for one another.
I should say, ARE for one another, when hanging about with drinks and dressed for summertime.
Desexualizing. Absolutely. I applaud it. Clothes do more to enhance sexuality, especially when the clothing is enforced by law or mores, than ordinary nudity, I believe.
Why bother : because it's not about them; it's about you.
worthlessness : shut the fuck up! (picture me giving you a little shove as I say that). Srsly, *choose* to build yourself. Even when joking, or being ironic, or whatever, negative language and thought do harm.
To combat my own lack of progress on the millions of small things that need attending to but which I never want to attend to and so I slack off and avoid, I started using the Any.do app to motivate me. Create the list of little shot that needs to be done, small as well as big. Set the goal of doing at least one on a given weekend. One item completed, then I can reward myself with whatever I cosigner a reward at that moment. Increase to two things once the one thing becomes regular.
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