IRL

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At home, at work, online when standing in line. Always checking to see the latest update whenever there is a slight pause in life. Memory and attention continues to fracture, and we keep clicking it away willingly, myself included. 

I first logged into Facebook sometime in 2008 so I guess we are celebrating our aluminum anniversary this year. Can of beer it is. What began as something recommended to help my real estate/mortgage lending connections has now grown to occupy more time than I thought I had at my disposal. 

When I moved to San Diego, I came to really appreciate the online connection with my Washington friends. I would get to see the things great and small that would have certainly been forgotten when we saw each other on my semi-annual visits. More often these days though, the feed is jammed with endless links and stories, and it takes a great deal of sifting through the dirt to find the occasional nugget of gold.

It is time to scale back on all that gets shoved into the feed, but every so often something will pop up that makes me hesitate to clear out all the non-friend things. Because I had "liked" the Big Sur Marathon, and because I check my feed so often, I found out about the last minute chance to get an entry to one of the few races on my bucket list. Still, I doubt these rare finds make up for all extra time scrolling.

When I was down in Utah for the St George Marathon two years ago, the other Sean mentioned he had quit Facebook and was now on Instagram. If I wanted to keep up him and his family (in the somewhat lazy online way), I need to sign up. I hesitated to add another site to scroll through, but he convinced me it was a better place to hang out online.

Instagram is all about the pictures. There are still some sponsored things that show up in your feed to pay the advertising bills, but there isn't an endless set of links that are shared back and forth. It is just pictures, and maybe a quote or thought to go along with it. It isn't totally disconnected with the issues of the day, but the things that appear in my feed are about saving the National Parks, cleaning up the trails, and what effect Instagram (and the endless pursuit of the perfect photo) is having on our wilder areas. These issues are more prevalent in my feed since I follow a lot of hikers. Your experience may vary.

One difference between Instagram and Facebook is that more strangers seem to come in contact with each other on Instagram. While a number of people I follow (or who follow me) are people I know, many more are people I found only online and have never met. Of course there are people I follow on Facebook that I will never meet, but they are most likely to be people in bands I like, speakers and authors I enjoy, etc. The strangers on Instagram are mostly just random people who had a picture that caught my eye, which led me to check out their other work and adventures.

Then I ran into one of the people I follow IRL (in real life).

Izzy and I were on a hike to Rattlesnake Ledge last weekend. It is a popular and busy hike, but it is my default these days since it is reasonably close, has some climbing but is not punishing, and there is a nice view at the end. We were not up early enough to beat the crowds, but at least early enough to get a parking space. I loaded up the backpack (forgetting water for either of us) and headed over to take a few pictures at the lake before starting.

The hike starts at the end of a gated access road that is about a quarter of a mile long. Just as we reached the end of the road and were turning onto the trail head, I ran into one of the hikers I follow on Instagram. She was with a group of four people and they were already finished with their hike (earlier risers). She had stopped to meet a little dog and I stopped as well, it taking a second or two to place how I knew her.  It felt like she understood the slightly confused/recognition look on my face, and we exchanged a smile and a small wave.

It was cool and sort of weird to run into someone you have only seen in pictures. She is not traditionally famous, but with the number of people who follow her she may get recognized semi-regularly. I am not positive I would have recognized her if we passed on the streets, but crossing paths on a trail provided eventual context. If we weren't headed in opposite directions it would have been nice to chat and tell her how much I like her photos, and appreciate that she does not tell anyone where they are taken. Several hikers do this in hopes of not having the places overrun.

The last three days have been filled with meeting up with friends in real life, and with the Thanksgiving week ahead there are more plans to gather, catch up and be present. I plan to dial back the online time, and keep the phone in the pocket more often (unless there is a photo to capture), but scrolling through the online life still brings a surprise now and then.

Time change

It is still dark when I open my eyes. I hear an eagle chittering in some neighboring tree, and the pup is walking around in the living room, dog tags lightly clinking together. It is the second day I have woken up before my alarm, and the second day I could not simply roll over and fall back asleep. The switch in and out of Daylight Saving Time does not usually affect me, but it looks like I am still adjusting.

I do not look at the clock. Growing up I would look at the time when I woke up mid-sleep, relishing it if I had even 30 minutes before my alarm. If it was only three in the morning, I was strangely psyched. More sleep! More sleep! These days, if it is within an hour or two of time to get up, my brain fires up and follows rabbits down holes, so I no longer check the time.

I drift in and out without really going all the way out. Soon I hear the ticking noise of the baseboard heat firing up, so I know it is close. The alarm finally goes off and the pup rushes in, so excited to start the day (read, get fed). When I swing my feet to the floor, my right ankle screams at me. I can barely stand, and the pup keeps circling, telling me to hurry. 

I had packed my running gear the night before so I could run at lunch the following day.  I have been slowly trying to get back out there, but this morning it feels like my ankle is telling me, "forget your plans, just keep being lazy." I stumble my way to the back door, let the dog out, and try to release whatever tension has built up in my muscles. 

After breakfast, still limping a bit, I take the dog for her morning walk. With the fall back of the clock, it is now fully light again when we hit the driveway. Our driveway is steep so I don't fault the dog for pulling on her leash this particular morning. The length of the morning walk ends up being determined by how many times she stops to sniff and mark. Today we weren't going to travel very far.

For some reason she especially loves to mark pine branches, and with the winds of the last few days the streets are filled with them. My place is small enough that I have not had room to put up a Christmas tree since moving here, and now I can add "dog peeing on tree" as a reason for it not to happen. We make our way through the neighborhood and pine boughs, not traveling fast, not getting very far. 

I make it to work later than usual. With the decreased work load, this is not much of an issue, but I am sort of leaning into it, adding a few minutes each day to my arrival time. I do manage to get out for a run, chalking up a bit over two miles but they continue to be painful. Ankle stiffness joined Plantar Fasciitis, but it was my lungs that bothered me the most. I don't know if it is all due to lack of fitness, or if some sickness is coming on, but either way it feels like something is gumming up the works. You are encouraged to listen to your body, but I think I need to ignore it for the first few weeks when all it keeps doing is telling me to stop. 

My workload that started out light is filled with little projects and small fires and soon it is time to go. When the day started I had one more issue to research before dropping off my ballot, but that is done and I am off to the library. Washington is all mail-in ballots these days, but I still like dropping it off in one of the ballot boxes. I guess it just feels more official that way. 

I park a couple blocks away knowing that there will likely be a line of cars waiting their turn. As I walked up to the library, there was also a line of people inside. It turns out there was an Accessible Polling Station there where people could fill out their ballot in person. The line of people snaked around the lobby, and it didn't seem to be moving. Stories from around the country are already telling of people waiting for hours in line to vote. I admire the determination of the people who waited, while wondering why more states don't use the mail-in and early voting system we have here. I am anxious for our country right now. It feels like we are on a precipice, and I am no longer confident that this is just swings of a pendulum, that we will step back from the void.

With the time change it is dark when I get home, and it is also raining. Two more excuses to add to the pain in my feet for not taking the dog on a walk tonight. But after we each have our dinner and I sit here for a bit to share my day, we rally, grab a light, and make our way out into the darkness. 

Flying solo

I'm in the habit of being alone
I try hard to break it I can't on my own

I'm glad no one's here just me by the sea
I'm glad no one's here to mess it up for me
I'm glad no one's here just me by the sea
But man, I wish I had a hand to hold

~ "Me by the Sea" by Edie Brickell & New Bohemians

After packing up the car with all the various planned activities, rain gear, dog stuff and other random things that would fit, I made sure the iPod was fully charged so I could catch up on the backlog of podcasts waiting to be heard. With a four hour drive each way, and lots of planned roaming on the beach, I figured I could at least start to catch up. The list of podcasts seems to grow as quickly as the stack of unread books these days. C'mon Day, turn off that damn TV!

Just before heading out, I decided to grab a couple of CDs. In the era before Spotify playlists or even mp3s, I would create my own mix tapes, even as far back as when they were still tapes. I grabbed a couple of road trip CDs I made for a drive to Santa Barbara more than ten years ago. I purposely did not look at what songs were on them, wanting to have a little surprise as one song lead to the next.

I listened to podcasts until I hit the Astoria Bridge and then popped in the first CD. I crossed into Oregon listening to "Blister in the Sun" and "Who Needs Sleep" and some songs I hadn't heard in a long time. It was fun to hear the weird mashup of songs I decided sounded good together so long ago.

Once headed home, I popped the second CD into the player after hitting the quieter roads between Ocean Shores and Olympia. The horns and twangy bass of "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" was a peppy start to the soundtrack that would carry me through the the last rural bits before returning to civilization. Unfortunately, the CD started skipping by song five and stopped playing altogether after that. Back to the iPod.

But it was still time for music. Switchfoot's album "Where the Light Shines Through" was already queued up and that suited me just fine. They are a recent favorite and made me OK with missing out on the mystery songs on the CD.

When the fifth song, "If the House Burns Down Tonight" came on, we were rolling through an open bit of country south of Raymond. It is a great song about focusing on what is important, and was inspired by the singer and his family having to flee their home when wildfires were encroaching.

I see the smoke piling up in the rear view mirror
Yeah but I ain't ever seen it any clearer
If the house burns down tonight
I got everything I need when I got you by my side
And let the rest burn

As I turned to see my dog sitting in the seat beside me, the lyrics landed a little harder than normal. This is not who should be riding shotgun.

This was not my first trip alone. It was not even my first trip to the Oregon Coast alone. For many years now I have traveled alone, dined alone, gone to movies and concerts alone, and of course lived alone. I have another trip planned in April to travel to Big Sur to run a marathon, and again I will be flying solo. If I ever get a permit to hike The Wonderland Trail, I will probably be hiking alone.

On one hand, I am good about not waiting around for someone else before going out and doing the things I want to do. I get to choose the time, place and pace of the trip. No worrying about the other person being bored if I just want to hike around looking at viewpoints. I also have this strange fear of disappointing someone if a trip/meal/movie that I choose doesn't live up to expectation. When flying solo, if things go sideways, it is just me who has to be disappointed. Stupid, I know.

At this point, I am a little too good at being alone though. Inertia, fear and comfort zone are building up barriers, and they are only getting stronger with age. It has been a number of years since I have dated anyone. Habits ingrain, and it just becomes easier/safer not to challenge them.

I went out on a couple of dates earlier in the year, and I thought they went pretty well. It was nice to meet someone new, and the conversations flowed easily, making me feel a bit less socially awkward  than I always feel. Unfortunately, she stopped responding when I reached out, "ghosting" me as they say.

My first try at online dating was not great*, but it may be time to try again. With my lack of real dating experience, ease at being alone, and tendency to stay firmly planted in the comfort zone, I am not adept at putting myself out there, but that needs to change. My excuse lately has been that I haven't been feeling that great about myself, would like to lose some weight, generally get my shit together, etc. I reasoned that I might not be my best self, but I am just overthinking it at this point. Bad habit. Makes inaction easy.

Tonight I am headed out to see a band (flying solo). Tomorrow will be about finding some flattering pictures and coming up with a catchy profile.

Must love dogs, but don't let the pup call shotgun.


*Side note, I just checked prior posts and my try at online dating was over two years ago. Damn.

A quick revisit, and maybe some changes

"The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea."
   ~ Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen)

My work comes in waves, as predictable as the seasons. Like many, it is deadline oriented, but with the knowledge that the deadlines (almost) never change from year to year. As such, November and December are when things go from frantic activity, to trying to fill your day with work. Naturally, this is when it is easiest to take time off.

Even knowing it was coming, I didn't plan a vacation. Then last week when I found out the two partners at work were taking much of November off, it became clear that it was now or wait and take two weeks in December.

Last November I just stayed at home, "staycation" mixed with chores ignored during the busy season. This year I figured I would take a couple of days at home, but I was a bit twitchy to get out of town for at least part of the week. In a few hours I cycled through some possibilities within driving distance: State park yurt or cabin...Orcas Island...Mount Rainier...Crescent Lake... All sounded tempting, but with weather and dog considerations, none quite fit.

This time instead of the mountains calling, it was the ocean.

I am not sure if it is the endless horizon, the timeless waves, the symbolic washing away of cares, but the ocean has always drawn me in. The Oregon Coast in particular holds a special place in my heart. I have been there as a kid with family, made trips with girlfriends, spent time there alone, and of course rode my bike down its length some ten years ago. I looked at the map, paged through memories, and settled in on Cannon Beach.

Cannon Beach offered the perfect blend of seclusion with a nearby crowd. There is a town filled with little shops, but you could spend all your time walking the beach and hiking in nearby parks. Though it was an impromptu, unscheduled trip, I was soon packing my car with lots of possibilities: Running gear, hiking gear, books to read, ukulele to play, and a shinny new laptop since I was out of excuses to write. Mostly though, I was looking for a little Vacation Bubble to step away, reset, take a look at things anew. 

I had a dog in tow this time so there would be lots of walking and less time looking in shops or going out for a nice meal. I did find a few dog-friendly patios, but the options would definitely been more plentiful with nicer weather (he says already making excuses to go back).

Sort of at the last minute I threw my own book in with the luggage. It had been a few years since I had read it, and I reasoned that since I would be driving the roads and hanging out in the backdrop of the story, it might be fun to revisit.

And I brought a pen.

I do not plan to re-write the story, but I did mark some things up this time through. If I wrote it today, it would be different, but I am still happy with it and proud to have put it out there. Still, there are a couple of typos I would like to fix, some repeated words too close to each other, and a part of one scene I would like to change.

Most history can't be rewritten, but with print-on-demand, my book can. There is no stack of books ready to be sold, so if I upload a new master file, any new copies sold would be missing those things I circled in my copy. I think with the Kindle versions, people who previously bought the book could actually get an updated copy for free (in case they ran out of other books and wanted to re-read it).

Of course I should be writing something new and not trying to rewrite what is in the past, especially since NaNoWriMo kicked off today, but I am going to take some baby steps to get back at writing.

The running gear was not used, the ukulele stayed in its case, but there was lots of beach combing, viewpoint scouting, coffee and beer sipping on patios, and a book and more read during the brief getaway.

Not planned, not perfect, but pretty nice.