2007

There were 200 posts published in 2007 (this is page 6 of 20).

Emotional Eating and Self-Regulation

One of the benefits of having a popular weblog (not this one, obviously) is that your readers send you lots of interesting reading material. Here are a couple of blog posts that are actually closely related to each other:

First up, at Brazen Careerist, Penelope writes about four weight-loss tips from her month in the mental ward. This is raw stuff:

  1. Understand that any weight problem is an emotional problem.
  2. Take time off so you can change bad patterns.
  3. Don’t be a snob. (In other words: know thyself.)
  4. Stop using your life as an excuse.

Trunk writes:

I’m telling anyone with an eating problem — if you are overweight or underweight — [life] can wait. Stop kidding yourself that [other stuff] is more important. People are always worrying that they will mess up their career by stopping their work to fix themselves. But the worst job is the job that you use to avoid your personal life.

I immediately ordered Breaking Free from Emotional Eating, which somebody recommneded to me long ago, but which I’ve conveniently ignored. Emotional eating is what I do. I need to stop it.

Meanwhile, here’s a related article on creating a habit of self-regulation. The author writes:

If you do ANYTHING that requires self-regulation, then that makes it EASIER for you to have self-regulation in EVERYTHING.

Self-discipline is one of my weak spots. It always has been. I don’t know how to change it, how to improve. This article claims that even practicing good posture on a regular basis can improve self-regulation in other areas of life. I’m skeptical, but I’m willing to give it a try (especially since my posture is poor to begin with).

Someday I will be a whole, complete person. I just wish it were today.

(P.S. On a related note, Dave sent me this story about mindless eating.)

The Dangers of Purging

If you’ve been following along elsewhere, you might be aware that Kris and I have been on a purging kick lately. We’re getting rid of all our stuff! Well, maybe not all of it, but vast quantities.

For one thing, I’m purging books. You know how painful this is for me. I’m sure those that helped us move the books three years ago are none too pleased to see them being sold (or worse — given away). But I’ve finally realized that it’s senseless to keep books that I never intend to read. Plus, we’re not far from the public library.

So, we’re purging many books. That means, of course, that we can purge bookshelves. I also bought a new desk, one that I can actually work at without experiencing pain. That means we have an old desk to purge. We’re purging old computer disks, manuals, and supplies. We’re purging our media collection.

Some of this stuff has just been thrown in the trash. I just want it gone. We’re selling other items on Craigslist. I’m selling some stuff online, too.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt to get rid of my comics. I thought it would. It’s actually something of a relief to mail them to somebody who will read them. I’m not losing much on them, either. I bought them for an average of $25/book, and am selling them for about $20/book.

What did hurt, however, was selling our old RCA Victor “Living Sound” console stereo. We never used it — Kris thought it was ugly and wouldn’t let it anywhere in the main living area — but I always dreamed of having it sitting in our living room, providing its warm, rich tube-born sound. But I sold it for $25 yesterday to a guy who’s going to gut it to use as a computer-based music server. (He’ll wire the computer output to the console’s speakers — he loves the warm, rich sound, too.) Selling that thing hurt.

Imagine how awesome that thing would have looked with the chairs from Mac and Pam:

I knew there was something I was missing when I agreed to sell that console. It was a perfect match for those chairs. One of our projects for the next few months is to convert the study (the red room downstairs) into a proper Man Room. I could have made huge strides toward this goal if I’d put the console down there with the chairs.

I’m kicking myself now.

The Paleolithic Diet

I keep forgetting that one of the reasons I chose this blog template is so that I could post some smaller entries. I also thought that this new format would be a great way for me to leave notes to myself. For example, somebody — I can’t remember whom — forwarded me a link to The Paleolithic Diet. I haven’t had a chance to read through this, but the premise intrigues me:

For millions of years, humans and their relatives have eaten meat, fish, fowl and the leaves, roots and fruits of many plants. One big obstacle to getting more calories from the environment is the fact that many plants are inedible. Grains, beans and potatoes are full of energy but all are inedible in the raw state as they contain many toxins. There is no doubt about that — please don’t try to eat them raw, they can make you very sick.

[…]

The essentials of the Paleolithic Diet are:

Eat none of the following:

  • Grains, including bread, pasta, noodles
  • Beans, including string beans, kidney beans, lentils, peanuts, snow-peas and peas
  • Potatoes
  • Dairy products
  • Sugar
  • Salt

Eat the following:

  • Meat, chicken and fish
  • Eggs
  • Fruit
  • Vegetables (especially root vegetables, but definitely not including potatoes or sweet potatoes)
  • Nuts, eg. walnuts, brazil nuts, macadamia, almond. Do not eat peanuts (a bean) or cashews (a family of their own)
  • Berries: strawberries, blueberries, raspberries etc.

Try to increase your intake of:

  • Root vegetables: carrots, turnips, parsnips, rutabagas, Swedes
  • Organ meats: liver and kidneys

I haven’t read this entire article, but it intrigues me. I have to wonder, however, if our modern diet doesn’t have something to do with our increased life expectancy. (I’m not saying it’s the only factor — but might it not be one factor?)

Here’s some additional information on the paleolithic diet:

See? I want to make entries like this more often. Stuff for me to refer to in the future…

The Long, Cold Winter Ahead

It’s not even autumn and Kris is already whining:

“I’m cold and it’s only September. It makes me dread the long, cold winter ahead of me!”

By the way, I should point out that the only way I’m able to write so damn much is because Kris picks up the slack around this place. She’s been awesome. You all should know that. I don’t mention it often enough.

A Fine Frenzy

Serendipity is a wonderful thing. Some of the best things in my life have come through chance encounters. Here’s a new Seattle band called A Fine Frenzy, which features 22-year-old Alison Sudol. I love her music. Apparently I was meant to hear it, as it came at me from three discrete and varied sources last weekend.

So far my favorite song of the bunch is “Rangers”:


A Fine Frenzy — Rangers (live)


A Fine Frenzy — Rangers

I like “You Picked Me”, too.


A Fine Frenzy — You Picked Me

Actually, I like just about everything I’ve heard from her.


A Fine Frenzy — Almost Lover

Here are some others:


A Fine Frenzy — Whisper


A Fine Frenzy — Come On, Come Out


A Fine Frenzy — Lifesize

A Fine Frenzy has an album out: Once Cell in the Sea. I recommend it highly.

The Lost Weekend

“Let’s go on a date this weekend,” Kris said during the middle of last week.

“Sounds good,” I said. We haven’t spent much time together lately. I’ve been absorbed in my world, and Kris has been…well, Kris has been watching me be absorbed in my world. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Either the art museum or IKEA,” she said. “Your choice.” I chose IKEA. I’ve never been to an IKEA before, and I’ve been to plenty of art museums recently. My feet hurt just thinking about it.

On Friday afternoon, we stopped for lunch at Sully’s Cafe in Milwaukie. The menu was limited, but I contented myself with a ham-and-cheese sandwich and a cup of clam chowder. We were impressed that Sully’s seemed to use quality ingredients. Not what we’d expected. (Note that the quality ingredients in my meal were cheese and milk, though.)

After lunch, we drove to IKEA to have a look around. Jeff had warned me that the store is set up like a maze, and indeed it is. We wandered through looking at all the stuff. I was enamored with the shelving units, of course. Kris spent far too much time looking at the kitchenware. As we wandered through the showroom, I began to complain that I didn’t feel good. “My stomach feels gross,” I said. “I feel like I’m going to explode.” Kris just shook her head. “I’m serious,” I said.

We hurried through and finally reached the self-service area where we could pick up the shelves, etc. we had decided to purchase. “Where’s that basket?” Kris asked.

“Which basket?” I said.

“The one I liked,” she said, but she hadn’t written down the bin number, so there was no way to find it. We had to go back to the start of the maze/store. Along the way, I made Kris stop at the in-store cafe.

“You wait here,” I said. And I went off to explode. You see, I’ve come to realize that I just might be lactose intolerant. I realize this is a rather gross subject for public discussion, but it really spoiled my Friday afternoon. When I’d pulled myself back together, Kris and went through the entire store maze once more.

We headed home.

Meanwhile, I had agreed to purchase a server at National Net, and to move Get Rich Slowly there. While Kris and I were off on our IKEA date, the NatNet elves were setting things up. When we arrived home, I spent some time verifying their work.

“I feel sick,” I told Kris later in the evening.

“Not again,” she said.

“No, not that way,” I said. “I mean that I feel sick. My stomach is upset. My sinuses are plugged. I think I have a sore throat.” To prove my point, I began to sneeze.

That night, we watched a strange French film from a Polish director. My head felt like a balloon. I could barely sleep.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I told Kris on Saturday morning.

“Neither could I!” she said. “I lay there for hours.”

“Me too,” I said. I checked my server progress, and things were good. At 1am, NatNet had sent me a message indicating that we only needed to do some final checks, and then I could switch the server over. I did the final checks and e-mailed support. Meanwhile, I discovered that while at IKEA on Friday, we’d been billed for ten yards of fabric, though we’d only purchased one.

We drove back to the store. The return process was hampered by the fact that I had developed itchy, watery eyes and an uncontrollable sneezing compulsion. I felt awful. We waited for half an hour, got credit for the overcharge, and left.

Back home, nothing had been done on my server. “Can you give me an update?” I e-mailed the tech.

“We’re waiting for you,” he said.

“I told you to go ahead,” I said.

“I can’t,” he said. “I need more info.” I sent him the info. I waited. Nothing happened. Mid-afternoon, I pinged him again. “It’s not enough info,” he said.

“It’s the same info I gave the other guy yesterday,” I said.

“I need more,” he said. So I gave him more. Meanwhile, Kris and I watched a strange documentary about a German man who came to the U.S., enlisted in the Navy, got shot down over Laos, escaped from his captors, and now has gone back to revisit the scene.

I was supposed to help Kris pick grapes and make grape juice, but I felt sick. “I feel sick,” I said. Fortunately, Tiffany was able to come help. I moped. I slept. I knew that I should write, but I didn’t have the gumption.

I e-mailed NatNet again. “Any progress?” I asked.

“I’m still waiting for you,” the guy told me, and I about blew a gasket. Fortunately, the guy from the day before came on shift, and he seemed to be able to take care of things just fine. “We’re ready,” he said.

So I threw the DNS switch, moving the server.

This morning, I was happy to see that many of my readers were able to see the new server, even though I was not. I was also happy that I felt a little better, if not physically, then at least mentally. “I’m going to write today,” I told Kris. I managed to get a couple of entries done before noon.

I took some time off to relax and run a couple errands. Then I came back and wrote some more. More and more readers wrote to tell me that they’d found the new site. I still couldn’t see it.

In the late afternoon, my sneezing fits returned. My throat felt raw. “I’m sick,” I told Kris.

“I don’t feel well either,” she said. “I want McDonald’s. And brownies.” I drove to McDonald’s to get her some comfort food. She baked some brownies. We ate poorly, but enjoyed it.

In the evening, I wrote some more. I was just posting tomorrow morning’s entry when all of a sudden my new server froze up. “What the hell?” I wondered. I phoned tech support. “Something’s wrong,” I said.

They took a look at the problem, and then e-mailed me back. “Something’s wrong,” they said. “We don’t know what. We have to replace the hard drive. It might take a while.”

Ugh.

So basically this was a lost weekend. I got very little done. My new server is no nearer being ready than it was on Friday. I’ve even lost some data, I’m sure, because I made changes to the server since they moved things over. I’ll have to reconstruct the changes I made, which will take time. Precious time. Meanwhile, I wrote very little, didn’t chip any branches, didn’t read the book group book, didn’t do anything.

Plus, I still feel sick.

The Business of Blogging

I woke up one morning recently and discovered that Get Rich Slowly had become a business. That’s funny — last I checked, it was meant to be a hobby.

What do I mean that GRS has become a business? I mean that I spend most of my time working on the site, both writing articles and taking care of things behind the scenes. I mean that about 50% of my personal income is now derived from the site. I mean that the e-mail flow has become so large that I cannot cope with it. I mean that I’ve seriously considered paying somebody — Kris? Mac? — to help me take care of things.

I also mean that there are all sort of business-like decisions to be made. I just joined two blog networks, for example. They’re both interested in working together to enhance advertising opportunities for members. This means negotiations of the type I’ve shirked before. (I get business/ad proposals all the time, but basically ignore them. Now I feel obligated to represent my blog networks, even if I don’t want a particular ad.)

I’ve also got people pitching book deals to me. I’ve been ignoring them, too, and I feel bad about that. I should at least respond to let them know that I don’t have the time right now, and that I’d rather self-publish my first book unless I can get a huge publisher to take me on.

Or how about this: in a week or two, I’ll join a new MSN project. In theory, this will drive huge quantities of traffic to the site, thus increasing its current readership. This is great, but terrifying. Dreamhost is barely able to cope with current GRS readership. My account begins to flake out at the 1000/visits per hour mark. Even a bump from a moderate-sized site pushes me over sometimes, and then the site becomes unreachable, which is not the image I want to portray. (And sometimes, like this morning, the site is just completely unreachable for reasons that I cannot fathom.) So what do I do?

Well, I move from $100/year hosting to $2500/year hosting, that’s what. Yes, it’s true. I’m going to pay $200/month for a company to host Get Rich Slowly. It hurts me to type that. It hurts me every time I think about it. Yet it must be done. And the reality is, this is only about 5% of my current income from the site, so it’s really not that big a deal. Yet it feels scary — $200/month for something that I’ve been getting for a fraction of the price?

Meanwhile, the key to Get Rich Slowly is the content. This week I’ve worked very little on content. Why? Because I pre-wrote everything last week, which was nice. It gave me a chance to take a break. But I didn’t realize that I’d be swamped with administrative tasks. It’s noon on Thursday. I took a vacation day today so that I could work on GRS. I’ve spent five hours doing nothing but behind-the-scenes stuff. I haven’t written anything besides the entry you’re reading now. I have nothing written for next week. I’d rather not go back into “day before” mode, so I need to get cracking.

But first I have some more business to take care of…

Pastabagel’s Background Noise Theory

At Metafiler, Pastabagel writes that he believes some people require constant background noise (where noise is defined not just as auditory, but also visual, etc.) in order to escape self-reflection. That is, some people are so afraid of self-examination that they do everything they can to avoid it by cluttering their life with a chaos of sight and sound:

Have you ever known people who have to turn on a TV or a radio the moment they enter a room, or can’t stand to do work without some sound on? These are people who are desperately afraid of confronting some truth about themselves, so they try to drown it out with constant distractions. And people like this tend to congregate (because they all like the noise the others are putting out), which is why whole neighborhoods are like this. The noise is clamourous and demanding of your attention, and therefore it’s safe. They can deal with the street, they can’t deal with what’s in their heads.

The background noise doesn’t have to be auditory either. Clutter and general messiness are optical versions of the same background noise. People will buy junk and never throw anything away because they are creating a visual garden of distractions. Their eye can dance over a room for hours and see different things in the clutter each of which triggers some superficial memory. But the mind is so busy processing what the eye sees and recalling the seen objects context that theirs no time for thinking the thought “Why do I collect all this stuff?” The classic case here is the suburban family that fills their house with junk, or the teenager who plasters their room with posters, etc.

The noise can also be mental — constant text messaging, video game playing, etc to fill up the isolated islands to downtime in everyone’s day. The point is not simply that they like the noise, it’s that they create the noise. The turmoil they create out here mirrors the turmoil in their mind, and drowns it out.

I know people like this. In many ways, I am one myself. (To some extent, we all are.) But I find that the times I am most relaxed, am happiest, are the times the background noise is absent. Why do I love being alone in the woods? No background noise of any kind. Everything is a blank slate.

Very zen.

A Long Way from Where I Started

There are times that I think that Get Rich Slowly is a happy little hobby, a mere plaything that’s earning me side income. Most of the time, I view it as a potential future career. Sometimes — like now, at 7:48 on Tuesday evening — it’s quite clear that this is a full-time job, and then some.

I currently have 125 messages in my inbox, all of which need replies. I have 315 in a temporary archive, a remnant of my most recent declaration of e-mail bankruptcy. I’ll only get to them once I finish the 125 that are at hand.

Some of these 125 e-mail messages actually have a direct bearing on my financial future — they contain advertising proposals or offers to join blog networks, etc. Many others are guest entries written by folks who have something they’d like to share with Get Rich Slowly readers. A large number of the e-mail messages are just personal finance questions.

“Why do people write to you with questions like these?” Nick asks whenever I mention a particularly obscure message. “And why do you answer them?”

The real answer is that I feel like I finally have a calling. I’m not financial expert, as most of you know, but I’ve made enormous strides in the past two years. Before I started Get Rich Slowly, I had $25,000+ in consumer debt. That number is now down to $7,500, and likely to be $0 by the end of November, almost five months ahead of my most optimistic projection. In order to accomplish this, I’ve had to apply a lot of what I’ve read and learned. By looking at the effects on my own life, I’m able to see what works and what doesn’t. I believe that my readers like the fact that I’m just an average guy who’s trying puzzle this stuff out. I make mistakes all the time, but I don’t let them get me down, and I share them so that others can learn from my foolishness.

What I’m trying to say is: Get Rich Slowly almost requires more attention than I can give it. I have grand plans for the site, but I don’t have the time to implement them!

Meanwhile, I do have a little personal blog called foldedspace. It’d be nice if I were to write something for it now and then, wouldn’t it?