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Unusual Optimism

I'm feeling pretty optimistic today--weirdly so.

To completely fix the dents in my car would be >$1k, yet my default thought was "how great that my dents are sufficiently minor that the inconvenience of just living with them doesn't even come close to being a $1000 detriment to my life."

To get a sort of half-repair done on the huge one (they'll pound it out, but not refinish it) will cost $200. Whenever something costs $200, I compare it to my most recent, indulgent $200 purchase (my Kindle (with 3G, without ads)).

Yet, I found it just as easy to think, "How great that my favorite device can be purchased for less than the cost of a crummy-looking dent repair!" as it was to think "what a shame that I have to spend as much as I spent on my favorite device on a crummy-looking dent repair"

Perhaps it's the nice weather.

Unusual Optimism

I'm feeling pretty optimistic today--weirdly so.

To completely fix the dents in my car would be >$1k, yet my default thought was "how great that my dents are sufficiently minor that the inconvenience of just living with them doesn't even come close to a $1000 detriment to my life."

To get a sort of half-repair done on the huge one will cost $200, yet my thought was "That's the cost of one Kindle (with 3G, no ads). How great that my favorite device can be purchased for less than the cost of a crummy-looking dent repair!"

It's going to be a long time before I can talk about cricket and not sound like an idiot

Here's a paragraph I read here:

Such was the clarity of Strauss's strokeplay and the passivity of India's attack, at 280 for 2 in the 43rd over, England were cruising towards an extraordinary triumph. However a late intervention, sparked by a reverse-swinging Zaheer Khan, left them clawing for breath as a silenced Chinnaswamy stadium rediscovered its roar, and when the requirement shot up beyond two runs a ball, there seemed no way back into the contest. However, a ballsy volley of sixes from England's lower order hauled them back from the brink, and with two runs needed from the final delivery of the match, Graeme Swann drilled Munaf Patel to cover to salvage a share of the spoils.

Going in I thought that just knowing that cricket involved bats and wickets would be enough to follow the story. After reading this paragraph six times and still being confused (and wondering if perhaps the author was putting up nonsense that sounded like he was talking about a sport), I think I'm going to bone up on my cricket vocabulary (still, I like the writing overall--it's kind of colorful or whatever).

I'm in this show!

Visit us! Buy tickets! Like us on facebook for a discount on tickets.

Here is the link.

Here it is again if you missed it.

Blogging

Right now I have the most recent post in the world.

I was just looking at my girlfriend's blog. It makes me smile: I saw the links on the side and I was curious if she had ever linked to my blog (as you dedicated readers know, this blog goes dormant for months at a time). I made the cut despite my paucity of posts! Of course, the link to my blog is titled "was once my fhe group brother," which is both completely accurate and hilariously out of date. (We've been dating steadily for more than 7 months now; we haven't been in the same FHE group for more than 15 months).

I like it, though. It reminds me of one of my favorite narratives. I mean, it's kind of exciting to think that what started as a casual acquaintanceship has grown into a relationship that's pretty intimate, unique, and important to me. With the benefit of hindsight, our early, casual interactions I've seen (imposed?) new significance in (on?) our early interactions.

I love to imagine what it would have been like to write a note to my past self explaining my eventual future with this girl. You know? Like, the day that I met her and was trying to remember her name, it would have been cool to have a little foreshadowing--to know that this girl would become a real, close friend and a serious girlfriend of mine--to know that it's very important to remember this girl's name because she'll pop up in the story later. The other characters can be killed off or forgotten or whatever, but the story won't make sense if you forget this particular girl.

(Come to think of it, a note from my future self explaining my future with her from where I am right now would also be helpful.)

Of course, there's always a bit of foreshadowing--every interaction is a little step either closer or farther apart. But still--the sort of perfect information that would allow you to know instantly whom you can forget the instant you meet them and which people will end up being really important to you seems like it would come in handy . . . either that or would just result in my coming on way too strong to a girl I've just met ("Hi, I'm James. Nice to meet you, especially since we'll get married eventually according to a note I received from the future. Well, if you thought this whole note-from-the-future thing was weird, I'm sure your future self who is married to my future self would not have let me go back in time and deliver this note. I'll see you later.")

ITEM! Now I realize that I should make sure to link to her blog. I do so, but note that I almost never update this blog, so perhaps I can be forgiven for not linking to her sooner and more prominently.

Provo River Parkway trail

The Provo River Parkway Trail is awesome! It just barely occurred to me today that I can easily jog on it because it passes less than a half mile from my house. It just barely occurred to me this week that jogging on roads with cars is gross because it smells like exhaust.

Do you recall Ethan Hawke's character in Gattaca who "never saved anything for the swim back?" As I went, I kept thinking of that great line and how I was going to apply that same sentiment and allocate all my energy towards getting far away from my house. It's a hard ideal to live because not thinking about the way back is a great way to blow the better part of your morning on a ridiculously long jog. I confess I saved something for the jog back, but not nearly as much as I should have saved. My jog was really more like two different jogs with a little break in between--one jog to get down the trail, a sizable break where I walked around and looked for a bathroom (with limited success--I found some, but they were locked for the season) and then another jog to get back.

Based on my anecdotal (and therefore meaningless) experience today, I feel like the camaraderie is better between joggers on trails than it is between joggers on streets. Many of the joggers today waved to me or made eye contact. I think I was reasonably friendly, too, though I confess that I frequently experience a strong urge to yell to the other joggers that if they had as much heart as I do, they would have become professional runners by now. This is widely considered poor trail etiquette. No one likes to share the trail with a pompous liar, no matter how much he overstates the innate athleticism of other joggers or how silly he looks.

(I note that I always feel like I look silly when I jog. I really enjoy feeling that I don't have to worry about how I look, but I struggle to escape the sense that something about my outfit--which includes a gaiter, a headband, old-style over-ear headphones, gloves, shirts, shorts and gallons of sweat--combined with my physique somehow makes it obvious that I am ridiculous in some profound, fundamental way).

Here's a map of half of my jog. I took exactly the same route back. I don't claim it was too out of hand in absolute terms as far as distances go, but it is the farthest I've ever gone in one session and it did take about twice as much time as I meant to spend (I include the slow wandering near that skate park at the end as part of the time, but not part of the map).