I’m not sure what I think. I like Sufjan’s voice and the rapping seems pretty inteligible. I am a huge fan of Impossible Soul, the last track on Age of Adz. Of which this reminds me, too.

I thought you should know.

Found some great photos while cleaning up my apartment on saturday.

These are from 2007. I stood up for Joel at his wedding. We stayed with Granny and Grandaddy while we were there.

I fly to NC on Saturday.

I’m reminded of a suggestion I heard (I think it was from an old neighbor), If you’d rather have that money, cash, in your pocket right now, you shouldn’t buy whatever it is you’re looking at. It’s a great illustration. So often I get swept up in the moment of purchasing. I want that thing so badly. I want to be the guy who walks out of the store with that thing under my arm. I forget that it costs me something. It costs me a trip to NYC. It costs me a coffee from a local shop. It costs me to have that thing and not anything else with that money.

So what of it? I didn’t buy the screw drivers. I’d rather have $10 in my pocket right now. I think most people have similar system that they go through when purchasing something new. It may not be as literal as mine, but that’s what works for me. I’m imaging some questions people ask are: Can I afford these payments? Will they fit into my budget? Do need to have this new TV? What am I missing out on by taking this trip?

I’m interested in how this principle applies to situations outside of money. What is the opportunity cost of owning a home? Not the actual cost, but what else are you giving up by owning a home? Can opportunity cost apply to relationships? What do you give up by entering into a relationship? What do you gain? What do you lose? Would you rather have $10 in your pocket right now, or be in a relationship?

While that’s simplifying the decision, this is how I’m beginning to think about things. What am I giving up? Am I giving up anything? Everything? Nothing?

The side question: How do you deal with situations that you didn’t decide to be in: the ones that are stealing the $10 out of your pocket? Anger? Frustration? Pity?

We’re a snooty bunch, referencing our exquisite taste,
sitting on the bench
book on the table
scribbling away at some important thing.

Cross you legs, writer.
Puff on that cigarette.
You’re composing now, don’t let Him stand in your way.
He’s looking on, careful, until
a boy
a girl

He comes up and pushes away.
He’s got something to say
an opinion unvoiced

Push Him into the street.
Make Him freeze.
He’s not welcome here, not while you’re sitting and sipping.
If that sounds hard, just ask Him to step out
–a short second
–while you finish this thought.
Ask nice.
Be polite.
He responds to that.

He’s gone
use the fury
the time crunch as motivation
finish what you started.
Give it a go.

You’re not alone on that bench sitting and sipping.
We’re with you.
We want to read it.
We yearn to know.
Just one more line,
and it’ll be done.

went here:

bought these:

sale ends today.

]]> http://jackmaatman.com/blog/?feed=rss2&p=760 2 http://jackmaatman.com/blog/?p=757 http://jackmaatman.com/blog/?p=757#comments Thu, 05 Jan 2012 02:30:57 +0000 jack http://jackmaatman.com/blog/?p=757 read more »]]> I had a great visit home. It’s weird to call Iowa home, because I haven’t lived there for six years, but it still has a part of my heart. About four days into my visit, I began to question why we visit places without some intention of accomplishing something. It was really weird to be in this, why am I here, specifically, here, for christmas, space, but I think I found some of an answer while asking the question.

For me, leaving LA means that I’m leaving my routine. Leaving my routine is bad for me. I have an intense desire to be slothful when I don’t have routine set up. When I do what I feel like, that often means I do nothing. Leaving LA also means that I have no network of support. I’ve come to rely heavily on my network of friends and colleagues in this city. Leaving that, means I feel more alone in a place that used to be home. That’s what it used to mean. Turns out leaving my routine can be good for me. It encourages me to start new routines, to do things I wouldn’t normally do, and it encourages me to leave the routine at home, without starting anything.

I’m more restless than I’ve ever been. A strange side effect of being much more active and eating right is that I don’t, almost can’t, sit for too long without getting bored. I want to make, create, read, watch, but I can only do one of them for so long before I got a little batty. My time at home was plagued with this itching feeling like I was supposed to be solving some problem, while I couldn’t see any problem in the foreground.

Most nights, I would head off to the Fruited Plain for a beer. I’d always see people I knew there. I even made a few new friends (or acquaintances–we didn’t have a DTR talk). The best part was that almost every night I’d have a good conversation. Whether it was with Dane, Taz, Laremy, Ross, Lisa, Margaret, Scott, Bob, Derek, Dusty, Dan, Andrew, Sarah . . . It was always good. The lack of routine or structure made for great opportunities to have great conversations.

I started to have really good, enlightening to my situation, thoughts. I began to relay these with the different people that I would talk with. Being open to this routine disruption made me available to build better relationships with all my friends and be able to hear new and exciting ideas from them.

It’s not monumental, but I did solve a problem while I was visiting. I learned that visiting is about seeing, talking, being with people. You don’t need to build a fence or even plan the next time, you can just be together. It’s not profound, but it is something I need to learn how to do: Relax with friends. Nothing needs to be accomplished–and then I’m successful.