I’m not a traditional tuna salad guy. I don’t like large pieces of celery nor do I like relish. I also do not feel tied to mayo for a ghostly binder. What passes for tuna salad at most sandwich counters bores me.

That’s not to say I’m adverse to the concept. Exhibit A: today’s tuna surprise sandwich was an open-faced pile-up of peas, pickles & pumpkin seeds with a soft-boiled egg on top. Basically, whatever is in the fridge and concepts or combinations I want to try. In my uneducated way, this is how I play with textures, temperature, flavors and seasoning.

Thus far, it hasn’t failed me. Making do with what I have and an imagination creates excitement and beauty. Luckily the trying is as tasty as the magic of mixing.

I need more of this in my life.

for:

• change
• growth
• peace
• space
• joy
• challenge
• truth
• discipline
• power
• passion
• more
• balance
• hope

… now.

Dinner of a bachelor: canned lentil soup, frozen grilled asparagus and roasted seaweed. Not that exciting tonight. But after three very social evenings, a simple, if culinarily uninspired, evening at home was welcome.

Janie and I sat on the couch as I knit. It’s rare to enjoy a weeknight multiple-hour block of needle time. Elizabeth Gilbert hung out with us, reading Eat, Pray, Love. Funny how the book is different two years after my soul-searching sabbatical and so many changes in my life. We didn’t make it out of Italy, but there’s always tomorrow night.

C comes home from Portland on Saturday. The house feels empty without him, but there have been a few perks to shaking up the routine and being forced to be self- (and dog-) sufficient. The TV hasn’t been turned on once. I’ve seen old friends. I choose what to do next.

Like tonight.

Oh, no thought stringing together tonight. Just two sketches of the day.

I was at the intersection of personal beliefs, political issues and professional duty today. The college me wouldn’t have ever dreamed that I would participate in what wad asked of me. The world is not as black and white in reality. But it’s got me really thinking.

There was an event at Clif Bar tonight. In two weeks they are moving to new offices, so the building that was my daytime residence for nine years will no longer be. Life goes on and all that jazz, but it’s an end of an era. I never loved anywhere while growing up for more than 3 years. I will miss 1610 Fifth Street in Berkeley.

It was nice seeing old friends and colleagues. I teared up a bit. Janie Sparkles couldn’t have Bern happier to steal a toy and run around willy-nilly. It’s showing me I need to get a heck of a lot more social.

I guess the moral of the day is to know yourself and remember where you came from.

From an IM exchange today (thanks, TL):

can I be honest with you?

from knowing you all this time, I think you put way too much pressure on yourself to the point where you put “happiness” on your to-do list like another stressful goal.

You need to go back to Kindergarden where the goal is having fun and enjoying what you do not having to be perfect or the best because when you set up these unachievable-by-any-human goals for yourself you set yourself up to fail then you feel bad about yourself.

You are cute and awesome and gay.
You are great already.

The highlight of my Monday: a box awaiting my return home. It’s like a ballet slipper, only horrifying.

I almost didn’t get this in. Too focused since 4pm. Wow, just realized that was 9+ of work. The weekend ended over an hour ago and I’m just headed to bed.

I would like to master shorter, more frequent bursts of productivity. Much progress tonight. More to do, however, this pace isn’t sustainable. Work- and wool-wise.

The coming week may prove to be a doozy. C is off to shoot OR by himself. I’m single-parenting and hoping to be social. A big launch MIGHT happen this week, assuming an agreement gets signed tomorrow (which is already today). And, then there are the challenges of feeding myself and leaving for/from the office at reasonable hours.

Perhaps not so much typing practice this week. Let’s wait and see.

Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity (video from ted.com) . Thanks to Wendy for sharing (not one of the knitting Wendys).

¡Ole!

Read it before you eat it.

At tonight’s Off the Grid, Hapa Ramen veggie bowl had pork broth.

Now I know what that tastes like.

Write or take a night off? Have I earned a night off or will it be the beginning of a slide into lazy sporadic postings? Project over or just begun?

There are important emails I could write, knitting to complete, yarn that arrived today that needs to be wound, and work always waiting to be done.

Clearly, this was chosen. But there’s no photo of my new (bad) haircut, no meditating on the joy So You Think You Can Dance brings this former ballet boy, no grumbling about progress promised by Wednesday on the big work project still not surfacing, no celebration of Judge Walker’s lifting the stay on same-sex marriages from his ruling on the unconstitutionality of Prop 8.

Just this. Enough. (For now.)