More psychobabble

After a couple of beers and a Stargate (SG1, of course) one's thoughts naturally turn to interpersonal relationships. For instance, is it common to have a nearly unbreakable bond with one other human being? Do those that have at least one relationship like this get lonely easier than those who don't? Is it more rewarding to know and be known so thoroughly or to be fiercely independent, oblivious to the possiblity of co-dependency?

I suppose it depends on the circumstances surrounding the bond, right? Developed over months and years as a healthy friendship, like the now non-existant marriages of old, knowing another person so well would probably be thrilling because individual identity is retained. (Oh, I know that from a feminist viewpoint my example can be debated, but assume the marriage I speak of is between two distinguished professors circa 1930.) In this kind of relationship both contribute knowledge and vitality because they're sharing their lives with each other, or so I've heard.

In contrast, a bond formed during trauma or to fill an emotional void is set up so that what little emotional strength either person has is pooled together for mutual benefit. This ideally temporary situation can become permanent if the people involved forget how to handle their lives alone or were too young to know how in the first place.

So if the choice is between an incredible understanding of another person through shared war experience or a peaceful, connectionless life with complete independence, what would most people choose?

Eye candy and best wishes

"I, Robot" might have had some sort of story about killer robots or something, but, man, did those eight visual effects companies do their jobs. The industrial design kids had some fun, too. Nifty gadgets and gorgeous architectural renderings. Ah! What a thing of beauty!

On a particularly awful side note: One of my professors had a bad fall on a mountain bike over the weekend. Clip-ins and steep gravel trails don't mix. My guess, from how bad his injuries are, is that had he not been wearing his helmet, I might be pouring a bit of my 40 on the ground for him. Instead, I'll drink to his speedy recovery.

Pre-fab Homes 2.0

Manufactured homes are experiencing a renaissance here. Some say Dwell Magazine is responsible because of the design competition they held a couple of years ago to design a modern manufactured home. I haven't visited the resulting Dwell Home which is conveniently located in Pittsboro, NC, but I plan to soon.

However, I did go to BuildSense's open house for the speculative modular farmhouse they built in Creedmore, NC.



In regards to the house itself, it's cozy and bright and expensive for what it is. What a very nice, very unfortunate mistake. Located in a rural area, (across the street from one of the architects) it's 1500 square feet so it won't be sought after by those looking for a new home in this price range. According to the design build firm, they won't recoup their costs. Eventually, someone will buy this naturally finished house (cedar siding, slate floors, berber carpet, etc), but at what price?

As a model for what's possible, it's informative. It feels nothing like a mobile home. The timber framing keeps it from looking like a spec house, too, even if it feels like one in a couple of places on the interior. The windows start about a foot off the floor and extend almost to the ceiling, dramatically expanding the tiny rooms. It will be interesting to see what they do with their next version. I also look forward to comparing it to the Dwell Home.

UPDATE: FabPreFab.com is the go-to site for the new wave of manufactured buildings.

Blog types

I've spent a bit of time today checking out the new Next Blog feature on the Blogger navbar. What I found is kind of disturbing. Most blogs fell into the following categories:

• Teenagers deliberately mispelling and randomly capitalizing their entries. At least, I hope it's deliberate.


• Foreign language sites (How could they? Don't they know I can't read jibberish?)


• Angry rants about day to day issues.


• Ultra-specific agendas - Christianity, Judaisim, Atheism, Conservatism, Liberalism, Sexualism, etc.


• What-I-Did-Today-In-Chronological-Order (ie. "7:30am Woke-up. Had to go pee. Managed to get back to sleep. 9:37am Cat jumped on my head." I only made half of that up. Guess which half.)

While these sites serve valid purposes to those who are drawn to them, I wonder where the other sites are. Here is my naked plea:

If none of the above appeals to you, please start a blog and share what does.

I'm curious and there must be others that would be. My current gold standard is Moira.

My new anti-hero

I happened on The Mister X comics while digging through my boss' massive collection (that he happened upon while digging in an attic 10 years ago) to see what I would like to buy from him. He had a couple of Sandman issues, but almost the entire first two volumes of Mister X, of which I knew nothing about. The covers were cool, though, so I grabbed 'em.

Which makes it kind of funny that the series is about a mysterious architect who takes a serum to stay awake for months at a time - "There's too much work to do to sleep!" - and has enemies from his former design school days that plot ways to kill him with his own designs. He's desperately trying to fix how his Psychetecture design was implemented, because it's driving the inhabitants of Radiant City insane. Yet another case of an architect not watching the implementers close enough, or in this case, at all, since he was in a sanitorium at the time.

Nearly every pane has someone falling off of an art deco-style building, papers floating through the air, a deranged addict, film noir lighting, and architecture jokes; For example: One pane is a crowd scene where a man is holding a book with only the top half of the title showing, "Vers Une". Another has the label on a killer robot as "Aalto".

I'm planning on scanning some of the panes (from both Sandman and Mister X), printing them as posters on the plotters at school, and then mounting them on foam core. DIY publishing is so nice.

Is my axis of evil gone?

The place to be during today's flash flood warning time period (6:30 to 8:45pm) was on the covered patio at Cup A Joe, Mission Valley. Despite my truly awful Thai iced tea (Cafe Cyclo has a decent one, but Raleigh is clueless about all things Thai), and the conversation blocking rain-on-metal-roof noise, it was possible to have an engaging conversation with an outgoing stranger while watching the storm.

The weather is so exciting, here. It's loud and inconvenient instead of merely damp. In fact, we don't have weather in Oregon most of the time; We have damp.

Anyway, the conversation was interesting. He guessed that I'm vegetarian - is it that obvious? - shared that he has faith, and then asked me what I believe. I was taken aback, since a) my beliefs are too complicated to spell out in one paragraph let alone to someone I just met and b) no one asks this outside of church. Except it wasn't that kind of situation. He was curious what I believed. So after I said, "That's a rather personal question, isn't it?" I told him that I have faith, although different than most peoples', and I choose to show it through action rather than vocalizing it.

Sometime later we got on the subject of schizophrenia. He could see that I was okay with talking about mental illness so he was comfortable telling me that he's a schizophenic. This surprised him because it isn't something you tell a lot of people even if you're on your meds and doing well, like he is. So I told him that D. has it. We talked about how terrifying the disease is for everyone involved. He said to be careful not to get too stressed out, or take drugs, and to stay healthy to avoid triggering it. (I could develop it into my early 40's but I doubt that I'm high risk.)

Of course, this makes me wonder if I'm being ridiculous about the D. situation. Is it time for me to make peace with the Boogey Man? He is going to die soon, right? How much of his obnoxiousness is the illness and how much is just him? He's a manipulative bastard, but should I continue to cut him out of my life completely? That's not very nice, is it?

My parka finally died

So here in North Caroliny we're getting the left-overs from Tropical Storm Bonnie before Hurricane Charlie (why isn't it named Clyde, again?) hits us tomorrow. Being a hardy Oregonian in possession of a Solstice Microshed jacket, I waded my way over to the post-office in my Timberline boots



and a pair of jeans. (I knew better about the jeans. There's nothing worse than wet denim.)

I've had my jacket for 8 years. My adopted father insisted that I start college with a decent rain jacket. And thank god. I wore it almost every day for those four years and frequently for the following four, remaining desert dry. However, in today's torrent, I got soaked. The Solstice site says:

"Wash your parka or pants in a washing machine with mild, non-detergent soap and then put them in a dryer on LOW heat. Heat activates the durable water-repellent chemical on the garment surface, rejuvenating its water resistance."

I hope that works. I may need to bronze it if it doesn't: Eight years contained in one piece of clothing. When I met G. we had the same jacket and haircut, until he lost his jacket. (He later borrowed my favorite Old Navy sweater only to forget it in class one day. I still haven't forgiven him. *nyah*)

Damn. I've known G. for 8 years. 8 years. That's our entire literal adult lives (I was 17 when we met so even more than that for me). Now I've got to call him.

Imagine a constipation free world

Emotional constipation is a concept I've been thinking about a lot lately. Doing a Google search for the term brings up a lot of blogs. Here's an excerpt from one of them:

"I don't feel like talking about them. Because when I do talk about them, I fall into full-blown meltdown, becoming a giant slobbering boogery mess who no longer possesses the ability to rub two thoughts together to make a comprehensive sentence.

The only upside to that situation is that it only lasts a short while, and it causes a sort of cleansing, so that I'm fine for a few days. But then it all starts building up again. Your basic emotional constipation."

Yeah, that's pretty basic. The constipation stems from avoidance; Pain, anger, and fear are useful tools provided to us so that we can react to given situations. When we consistently avoid feeling these emotions, whether through self-preservation or discomfort, we lose touch with a vital part of our psyche. We cease to grow, but are instead mired in whatever state that part of us is in. It's like standing water with nowhere to drain: Eventually, it's fetid.

I don't say this to sound like a self-help wanker. Someone said to me once that allowing myself to feel my emotions is a luxury that I have. At the time I said, no that it's a gift I give to myself, but considering my background, yes, it is a luxury to be safe enough to let myself feel something. So when someone has killed your dog and is chasing you through dark alleys, don't worry about this touchy-feely woo-woo crap. But if it's you and your bedroom and a notebook, there is zero shame in becoming "a giant slobbering boogery mess". It could even be that you discover, as I did, that your world didn't fall apart because you had a breakdown. In fact, you feel better, stronger, and lighter.

Wendy's Furniture Emporium

I am amazed at how quickly a palm grip sander

can turn a living room into a refinishing studio complete with dust masks and someone working in their underwear. These things are handy and not just for getting people to strip down to their underwear. Suddenly, I want to buy one (or use my roommate's) and get dirty thrift store furniture to refinish thereby discovering hidden treasures. Or maybe I'll watch her do it.

The beach and a model encounter

Man, am I zonked. Four hours of driving, a little bit of time at the Fort Fisher Aquarium, a lot of sun and surf and all I wanna do is go to bed, but, it being only 8 of the clock, I'll write this instead. Have I mentioned how incredible it is to swim in the ocean? Back home in Oregon (that's Orygun) wading in the water isn't fun until after your feet go numb, so this warm stuff is fabulous.

On a complete tangent: At Target yesterday, on yet another run for appliances and shelf liner, I found myself surrounded by images of my ex-boyfriend's sister. Surreal, yes, but not completely unexpected since she's a model. Apparently, she's one of the Mossimo girls right now. I had to call him to share the bizarre moment; He was, as usual, unaware of her latest job, so he was also amused.

Yeah, that'll go on my list

There's an article in the Atlantic Monthly about this guy named David Allen. He's some organizational guru who's website doesn't give any information away for free - he charges $30 for a downloadable PDF - but from what James Fallows writes about the system it makes sense: Write down what's on your mind in lists organized by where you'll be to complete the task and forget about the worry. Just remember to go back over the lists, of course.

So rather than buy a Palm Pilot, I bought a memo pad with 5 different neon colors for $1.69 - 100 times cheaper. I feel more organized, but I was kind of organized to begin with. My personal uninformed adaptation of his system is to make lots of sub-categories of my major ones. (Things to buy/get/see, Communication, Things to do at home, Things to do at studio, Long-term goals) I'm glad he mentions the two-minute rule: If it can be done in two minutes just do it, don't put it on a list. I tend to get overzealous with list making and that's a good stopper for me.

We'll see if I'm still reading through my lists and checking them twice in a couple of weeks.

We all live in a white Igloo cooler.

Once, on a family camping trip to the beach, someone stole our food-packed styrofoam cooler off of the picnic table while we slept in the bed of the pickup. (This was a classy camping trip.) That cooler was huge and doubled as a bench because it was so sturdy. Which brings me to my "Well, yeah" moment.

ThermaPanel is expanded polystyrene in 4' panels intended to replace everything that normally fills a stud wall. It's an interesting concept that is probably very cheap and energy efficient.



But I have a couple of questions:

What about outgassing? Polystyrene wouldn't allow buildings to breathe, so any chemical fumes would be trapped inside unless the openings were left, um, open for a while.

Why are the existing structures so damn ugly? I mean, honestly.

When did I start drinking beer and liking girly things?

C. moved in this last weekend along with K. (our contraband kitty) and we went on a Target shopping spree. Apparently my status as a graduate student in the school of design does not make me immune to the Room Essentials collection. I spent entirely too much money on items color-coordinated in mauve, california poppy and lavender.

I did not succumb to the urge to buy the Hello Kitty tv. I don't even like Hello Kitty, but this tv is so over the top that if I were to buy a television, this is the one that I would get. I can't find a picture of it anywhere but it isn't this one:

It's got a soft pink handle on top, and it looks more 50's retro.

UPDATE: It's taken almost a year, but I found a picture of it: