Creativity is dead

So this is a random post.

Currently coding.

Also listening to BirdChillRock which is playing Glen Hansard singing a Dylan song. I say, is this just me? Or does the way your day goes have any connection to the quality of music Pandora plays for you on that day? I've noticed horrible selections on really bad days. Some might say the song is not bad, it's my projection of a bad day that makes it bad.

Well, at least creativity is not dead in all domains. I found a simple (hopefully right) solution to our transcription problem, it was nice and elegant, which pissed off Y who came up with this statement - 'my only problem is that this seems really simple'. WTF. But Y's prone to statements like that.

We had a huge debate today. He said something stupid along the line of he doesn't blog his poems cause he's old fashioned and thinks that writing and writers belong to the print world. Worse yet, he said he didn't want to associate himself with the characters out there who blogged silly stuff and passed them as poems and stories. Ha! Now , we can't let statements like that go off now ,can we? Especially when we know the real thing is out there.

At the end of it, I think some stuff I said (especially about spoken word) registered with him, but he seemed uneasy when he said - 'I don't know,man, it's hard for me to open up and change to thoughts like that, my biggest change so far was moving away from my home and living with roommates I didn't know', I knew it was time to give up. Y is Y, 23 or not, he's just going to take his own sweet time.

Anyway, back to coding. Why do I have so many packed days?

Old and New

At first there was the one.
The one that took many forms and many names
but nevertheless it was the one.
It belonged to the girl I fell in love with.
The book slut.
Someone once called her 'clueless'.
Someone once hurt her hard and deep,
that caused her to become guarded
with a thick armor that doubled up as a blanket.

I fell in love with her writing before I fell in love with her.

At first...the words were...indecipherable.
But then it grew on me.
Like a morning sunlight that paves its way across the front porch
through the windows through the living room
into my bedroom into my body.
I was penetrated
I was hooked.

Your poems, said I, should be made into songs.
Then she flirted with the band leader
And I made up my mind never to let her near bands again.

I was privileged, sometimes the only one
Always there, a read away.
Here the story came to life.
Here the first days were started.

And then the new one came.
I didn't really understand the reasoning behind the change
Or the makeover
What change?
I knew not then what I know now
If I ever to change what would I become
What is I? as they say in Jeopardy.
I am beyond time, beyond the flame of change.
The flame that lights out fading darkness and burns off in fading light.
I am beyond that
I am below the layers
And the layers of the onion are peeled away
one by one, two by two
three by three.

But here we were with a pretty picture of gazing eyes
where there was more than silence
and foolish?
And nomorefollowers
and windsfate
There was more, much more
There were stories, they were characters
Saira and Lily and the wife of a liar
Words in a place
belonging to a girl I am in love with.

I want to be her everything
Her good night kiss, her good morning smile.
I want to be all her phone calls during job tea breaks and whilst sipping whiskey
I want to be there for her, cause that's what am here for.
The long run..

That's right
You and me and the long run with our dreams and our hopes
Me with my idealism
You with your practical-ism.

My image of her is of her reading
But I have other images coming my way
Her writing her stories,
Her and I in Spain
Her as a mother.
We live in a world where we are junkies
Looking forward to the next thing
We are not here we are not now
At least not yet.

And now, I am denied this space
I live with the old one and its solace.
Misery loves company
If I am misery it becomes my company
If 'it' was about misery then I became the company
But in the words of S. Williams
'Somehow I can't stop thinking
Thinking
All the time thinking
What is she thinking?'
And...
What is she writing?

Things that happen

- you have a plan
- she goes along for a bit thinking she can convince you to change your mind
- she tries hard
- you try harder, you convince her to an extent.
- But what she says and how she says about her plans have an effect on you
- you think you're selfish ignoring her side
- you start wondering about your idealism, your prev. bad decisions and how the other usually makes sense
- you could tell the other - listen this thing is here. But she could flip out
- you could keep quiet but that's not being honest is it?
- you tell the other
- the other flips out cuz she just used to your plan in her head
- you are called a flip flopper
- you make the other seem unwanted, uncared and worthless
- you have to come to terms with all this new plan where you are alone
- you are the loser.
- and the other is tired from this shit.

What do the normal folk say - these things happen?

The Bear

Friday night dinner, our man texts me saying 'Should we bring anything?'. I call him and ask if it's possible to bring some frozen parathas on the way over.

Sure! Err..How do you spell that?

I'll text it to you.

OK.

Half hour later a text comes - 'On our way with some piranhas'

Yes, we are a couple of dorks.

Of Bosses and Men

I was reading this NYTimes article that analyzed whether women make better bosses. I haven't had a woman boss yet (at work i.e., at home, the woman rules). And I realized that even if I did, I wouldn't be able to answer that question. See, I tried very hard not to stereotype and generalize, honestly believing that a person is a sum combination of experiences, exposure and thoughts that mold him or her as an individual. If my lady boss, by being a woman, had something going for her, a unique perspective, intuitiveness, anything - I would say sure she's got this and it might be because she's a woman. But I would hesitate before saying all women had it.

Anyway, here's where I would rate my bosses so far from least to most favorite

-ICC guy. My first job, and I successfully managed to get fired by ticking him off. The dickhead took off my salary and got me to work on a commission. The sad part is my parents told me to go back and talk to him, because they thought it's better than staying at home. But when the dickhead demanded money for, wait for it, taking me back, my father wised up and said forget it.
- Princi at the teaching college. This chap was spineless. Honestly. He was close to retirement and he played the safe game, not taking sides, not getting involved. I didn't fight with him though. I had learned my lesson.
- SEB. The first prof. He was pretty ok actually. He had good projects, I got to go to beautiful Asilomar and he got me started at the lab. The only irritating thing is that he used to needlessly ask me, and only me, questions in class. And he had his eighth kid just before graduation, which was really odd. To top it, I don't think he gave me a good recommendation.
- TM. Now I've not really worked for him, in the strict sense. But I would have liked to. He was brilliant. And he got me, in a way, to quit smoking and pick up running. I actually emailed him saying so. I didn't hear back.
- NJ. The first real mentor I had. They used to call us 'the one two punch'. All my coding came from him. Along with all my papers so far. We actually did great stuff together, me being pretty much a sponge. I kinda shot my mouth at him at Indy at a conference, but my crazy ex had to be partly blamed for this. It took a while for things to get back to normal (I was devastated at my stupidity) but they did, and we're cool now. I'm definitely inviting him for my Christmas wedding.
- HT. The current prof. The gentlest person I have known. That's the only reason why he tops NJ. I actually feel bad if I don't have anything to report to him. Another great thing about him is that he is pure genius. His ideas knock me off, and am quickly learning to do think creatively, something which didn't happen till now.
- GAA. Ha! I just love this guy. He's 5 years from retirement, but sharp as a needle. He's the best manager and engineer I've known, brilliant at understanding things, great at handling people and a huge sense of humor.

True story - during my presentation two weeks ago, I load it up and hit the Fn-F8. The first slide comes up with four graphs and he immediately starts off on his own, analyzing loudly - "So this the four column blah blah and what you see is blah blah". I look at him with a grin - "Hey G, you want me around here or you good over there by yourself". He stops and looks back at me. Everyone is laughing at his shocked expression and my grin. "Oh Boy", says he, "You're at it, aren't you? Hey A, you know if you're getting paid this week? Cuz I know am getting paid"

My grin pretty much vanishes, amongst roars of laughter from the others.

He's the only guy who can pull that off.

Plus he's a hero here for the volunteer work that he does for high school kids with his robotics club and his work on promoting science and math.

If I ever end up being the GAA equivalent to my lab (if I go down that way) I'll be more than happy.

Noise

'Hello darkness, my old friend,
Ive come to talk with you again'

Open eyes that are red. Definitely not allergies. Brush teeth vehemently to get rid of that bad taste. A taste of feeling stale. Rotten. Snap back to the present. Gulp down a mug of tea and two cups of coffee. Nothings gonna get rid of the gulp in your throat. Fade away. Snap back to the present. Trudge these halls, one heavy foot after another. Be real, be real. Ashes. Lance. Meetings. Take paper and pencil to write notes, but end up with a blank page. Soup. Hope it stays down. Throbbing head. More coffee. Wish for cigarettes. Numbers numbers. Code. Perspiration. There's the bad taste again. Oh fuck. Snap back to the present. Stay here goddammit.

How many times does one travel in his head if one is away?

Confession

Dear Coauthors,

I realize that you have done a much better job than me with my research paper. I was initially pissed that during three months from which there was absolutely no word from all of you, everything was changed, including the title of my work. But 5 minutes after comparing your draft and mine, I had to stop reading mine. What can I say? It was the middle of the first semester and I had a tough time. And turned in a crappy paper that wouldn't have a chance in any scientific journal. And yes, I am stupid enough to bruise my own ego. So sorry for being judgmental and complaining about you to the office mate, the good friend and the girlfriend. I should have known better.

Yours,
Bird

(The only other time when I wanted to stop reading what I wrote as compared to others was...'The minds daily battles' with Heathcliff's Girl.)