Categories
Travel

Day 998 and Pack It Up

Packing is one of my least favorite activities and yet is one of my most refined life skills. I’ve got a number of systems including the 3 bag cascade and the 54321 method.

Packing is a source of significant anxiety for me as I moved a lot as a child. I’ve written about packing 36 times during my thousand day writing experiment so it’s clearly still an unresolved issue for me. But it’s a great opportunity to share my tricks.

I’ve got a Notion document that has a list of all the various medicines, supplements, and other necessities for keeping me healthy & functional on the road. I also maintain a packing list in my daily note book by hand to double check. Then I lay it all out on a towel and double check against both lists. Each separate bag & cascade of needs goes through this process.

Skincare for my transcontinental flight that I keep in a pocket in my backpack.

Because you can’t rely on checked bags arriving at the same time as you (or sometimes at all) I separate out what I need for the first 3 days in my Aer backpack, the first week in my carryon roller bag from Muji, and the remainder of the trip in a checked bag. That’s the three bag cascade system.

Being detail oriented is crucial to the packing coming together. I go so far as to label my packing cubes so I know what pajamas to grab for the overnight versus the more formal clothing which can be safely checked. A separate set of casual outfits goes in the carry on so no matter what happens I’m comfortable and have what I need.

Categories
Culture

Day 997 and Brain Fog

I have felt a bit disappointed in my recent writing. I’ve not felt the urge to produce anything of much substance or synthesis in a week or two.

The exercise of writing daily isn’t meant to produce anything but the consistent repetition of a habit of critical thinking about my daily experiences. I sometimes have to accept that there will be weeks where it all feels a bit half baked. I’ve got no conclusions to share.

I am not the only one experiencing a lack of clarity. Confident assurances read as naive at best or manipulative at worst. No one is certain of anything at the moment. The widening gyre has our best struggling with conviction.

I have been following Venkatash Rao’s working theory on the breakdown of world narratability in his series on Protocal Narratives. If you are not a Ribbonfarm reader I’d encourage you to begin.

He is grappling very well with these themes considering the deep sense making challenges facing all of us. Attempting to find workable worldviews that are manageable to our human minds is a challenge as consensus reality is a competition between thousands of different competing narratives.

To retain fluidity, you must retain an unmediated connection to reality. But the unaugmented brain is clearly not enough for that connection to be tractable to manage.


How do you resolve this paradox?


I think the trick is to inhabit more than one interposing intelligence layer. If you’re only an economist or only a deep-state institutionalist, you’ll retreat to a fixed logic of caring; a terminal derp.

Fluid Fogs and Fixed Flows

I’m doing my best to stay out of terminal derp but I’m still feeling like the fog is impeding my view. I’ll just have to keep putting out my own beacons and hope the lighthouse network illuminates enough for us to navigate together.

Categories
Aesthetics Culture

Day 993 and Service Expectations

We are in a weird moment for transactional goods and services. As more people draw inwards towards themselves, the social contract is less clear. What do we expect when we pay someone to do something for us? Do we make small talk? Do we smile? Do we reach for connection?

I went to a nail salon today. I’d called ahead looking for a specific nail technician. I was really relying on having her as I treat pedicures as more of a medical grooming need than a strictly aesthetic one.

I get pedicures mostly because the bending over required for clipping, filing, and cuticle trimming is hard on my Ankylosing Spondylitis. I prefer to have someone handle that grooming for me to avoid the unnecessary discomfort.

Especially because an ingrown nail can be a significant infection for someone like me as I take immune suppressants for my autoimmune condition. A little nick or cut gone wrong can get me quite sick.

I like to know I’m working with a careful nail technician. I went through cosmetology school and am familiar with what is in a safe aesthetician environment.

So I was surprised to find myself trying to communicate via non verbal cues with a gentleman who seemed unclear about what tools to use for what job. The woman is scheduled the appointment with was busy with someone else. I said I’d wait but it got lost in translation.

I got more anxious as an acrylic nail drill got involved. I don’t use acrylics. And I really started to panic when a razor came out. I definitely didn’t want that used on my cuticles.

And I found myself unsure in the moment. Do I just trust this gentleman who cannot understand a word I am saying with razors and drills? Or do I just get up and go?

I stayed for too long. The drill was used on my big toe and cut down too far. I finally after some shock extricated myself and left cash on the table and drove home feeling scared and unsettled without letting him finish.

If we can’t figure out how to communicate with each it’s complicates your social expectations. I didn’t want to ruin a service or not trust the person in front of me. But I also have expectations for the experience and safety from knowing something about the job and it’s safety requirements.

I found myself unsettled by the whole experience. That my expectations are high trust and I find myself simply not being able to make the transactional moment work. I’d failed. I paid in full for a service I didn’t get what I needed. I left.

Categories
Homesteading Medical

Day 987 and Eggs

One of our hens died today. My husband took on eight chickens from one of our friends a month ago It was an exciting moment. He really wanted chickens and it felt like great luck.

The family was moving and so Alex stepped in. If it were just me alone I probably wouldn’t have any animals as I don’t necessarily always have the physical capacity to do daily chores. I realize that’s a funny statement for someone who lives on a homestead in Montana but you get used to your limits and work around them.

But my husband lives for doing shit. I call him a “man of action” as he’s happiest when working on something. Chores and animals and homestead work are a hobby for him and I’m deeply grateful we could bring that way of living into our lives. I am envious that he has the capacity as there are few joys as deep as improving the world around you. I wish I could do what he does.

So it’s sheer bad luck I find myself on my own when one of the hens died. Alex was literally gone for a day and one of his birds dies on me. I feel responsible for the death even though I know I am not.

Death happens. Chickens are strange finicky animals and do in fact sometimes just up and die. I’m capable enough with death. I did plenty of farm work as a kid. But I’m not the one who does the bulk of the hard physical work and never will be. I contribute other things.

I simply wasn’t expecting that with just one day on my own being responsible for the hens that something bad would happen. But there I was finding myself responsible for dealing with the physical reality of a dead bird on my own.

I happened to have a doctors appointment in town this morning so I didn’t check on the chickens when I woke up. And that’s what I feel worst about. That I didn’t even notice.

I got in the car, went to get my own eggs checked (a follicular ultrasound if you are curious) and came back to find an entirely different egg problem on my hands.

I went to collect the morning’s eggs and saw a red hen laying underneath the raised coop. I briefly panicked wondering what the fuck was I supposed to do. She was clearly dead and I’d missed it. I’d just left for town without even checking on the hens.

I panicked and tweeted that I’d had no idea what to do. And then I found the heavy duty trash bags and nitrile gloves and moved the carcass out of the coop. The remaining hens seemed disturbed. The leader of the group in particular was quite vocal and came up to me as I was moving the body.

They didn’t seem to mind the body in the coop but began loudly clucking at me as I pulled her out. Did you know that chicken rigor mortis sets in about three to four hours after death? I do now. The body was in rigor when I found her so she had clearly died overnight.

I feel horribly guilt that I didn’t check the hens before I left for the doctor. But what would I have done? Judging by the rigor she was dead before I woke up.

I’m not sure I could have done the clean up quick enough to make my appointment. But the idea that the hens were just poking about next to their dead compatriot for any additional time while I went about my business of living seems horrifying. I guess that’s my own human bias setting in as they didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the body only by me removing it. I bagged it and put it in a bear proof trash can. I pulled up poultry disposal procedures and asked my internet friends what the duck to do next.

Some of our neighbors came over after their workday to help me dig a hole in the back pasture to bury the body. Digging a hole 3 feet down to keep the predators from sniffing it out is the recommended procedure.

I wasn’t up to the task of digging a grave on my own. Mostly because I’m not good enough with the tractor to get the post hole digger mounted. Thankfully I had help.

The remaining hens had laid three more eggs in the intervening hours. I had also learned in those hours that my ovaries were producing more than ample follicles. It would seem that, like our hens, I produce eggs in adverse conditions too. The circle of life in just one day.

Categories
Emotional Work Politics

Day 984 and Distrust

I had a bad migraine over the weekend that simply took up all the space in my mind and body. I woke up with a break in the pain and a deep urge to throw myself into something that felt like momentum.

I found myself awash in sadness. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. It was as if my entire body felt despair. I’ve come to accept the value in embracing emotions as they come. “The only way out is through.”

I trust that my nervous system knows as much as my cognitive mind. I go so far as to say it knows more but that sounds a little woo to folks. And so I listened to my sadness. I cried. I rambled at the many problems large and small facing my corner of the universe.

The distrust I have for our elders who twenty two years ago used today as a catalyst for sending us down an inexorable path of death and fraud. I cried over petty inconveniences like the broken visa system keeping people I care about outside of America.

It’s hard to understand how we came to this point across a generation. But easy to see why millennials are unsure if any of our institutions can be trusted. And I wonder what it’s like to have no memory of a time before 9/11.

Categories
Biohacking Medical

Day 974 and Flare

As most casual observers of this daily log have probably noticed, one of my main interests is biohacking. It was a hobby in the time of my life I mislabel as “before chronic illness.” It’s not accurate so much as recency bias. I’ve been into biohacking my whole life because I’ve had to manage an unruly body.

I had the best health of my life between 24 and 34. I am rounding the end of my 39th year as I write today. I didn’t think of myself as being chronically ill for that decade.

Probably why I think of my life as having a “before” illness is more that I’ve been in the worst flare of my life for the last five years. It came crashing down with a one two punch of being a startup founder & getting pumped full of hormones for fertility treatments at 33. I was on bedrest and chemotherapy drugs by the time I was 34.

So I have to remind myself there is no time before chronic illness. There was remission. I had long years of robust health interspersed with autoimmune diseases that flared and were contained.

Diagnosis has been a lifelong battle which started with inflammatory skin conditions and horrendous allergies and ended up with the inflammation going inside my spine and joints. Ankylosing spondylitis and psoriatic arthritis is what codes with insurance.

Looking at my health records, I had my first issues at 7 when I entered school, then after puberty as teenager around 15 & 16. I had to drop out of high school and ran a giant let of standardized tests to claw myself to university.

I was hale for college and my first startup but flared so badly after the acquisition of my first company I was put on an experimental immune reboot protocol. Ask me about being put on cyclosporin without an organ transplant.

My most recent, worst and longest flare was in the five year battle after doing IVF and egg freezing in my early thirties. I’ve only really felt like I was able to work my preferred hours this past year. So perhaps that flare is finished. I don’t want to tempt it. Though I yearn to live harder & faster and bigger.

Writing it all out in a timeline makes it seem like the pattern is introducing change and stress into my routines but also there are two big incidents involving hormones. Being put on birth control as a teenager and then whatever the opposite of birth control might be with IVF. Maybe no more synthetic hormone control for me.

Managing your health isn’t easy for anyone. It’s particularly challenging for me. And if the current post pandemic climate is any indication a lot more people are grappling with poorer health. I wish I could offer more help other than saying it’s not easy but flares can be contained. Sometimes with a lot of pharmaceutical intervention. Sometimes with better habits. Sometimes with time. And sometimes it’s just a crap shoot.

Categories
Culture Emotional Work Politics

Day 972 and Falling Faster

I’m starting to feel like summer is losing its grip on me. I cannot even begin to express my relief that September is almost here. I loathe summer and this one has been particularly hot and horrifying.

Being in Montana for the summer has given me the nicest possible version of summer still possible on a warming planet. You wouldn’t imagine being a mile higher than sea level and in the Rocky Mountains would make for hot summers. But you’d be surprised. Thankfully it’s not a persistent condition like Houston.

I love being home. But I love winters in Montana about hundreds times more than summers. Ironic then that I usually find myself traveling for work during the times I most prefer to be at home. I struggle to remember the allure that travel once held before the Great Weirdening collided with the Pandemic Years. I remember yearning for Hong Kong and Dubai. Now I’m avidly negotiating Airbnb so I can stay put in a relatively centralized European city.

Can you imagine thinking that going abroad to do business was a sane use of time before say 2016? 2019 and onwards has given us closed borders to the lawful and state capacity collapse and immigration and visa panics. Hard to imagine that doesn’t feel like some kind of change to American idealism.

I truly pray if my writings are ever preserved for any kind of historical usage in some artificial intelligence that you will remember there was a time when New York and San Francisco were the gravity wells of an era. It’s been a long fifteen years since the Great Recession.

Whatever that time was it’s not the current moment. Maybe it comes back. I was a post 9/11 New Yorker who came from the country to do patriotic things like build businesses. Let’s not get into the war that happened in the process.

I’m glad I’ve gone home to the west. But I know you’ve got to journey from home to appreciate it too. I’ll keep my corner in the edge of the empire as renewal comes from the edges. Fall may turn into winter but you know in all seasons things turn.

Categories
Community Startups

Day 967 and Good Moods

Everyone in my social circle was in a terrific mood yesterday. A small company that was widely supported by angels in my ecosystem was acquired by a larger startup that we all like. Happy investors that we were, Alex and I read the cap table over dinner and celebrated each co-investor that we liked.

It was a jubilant moment across my group chats in a darker wider climate for startups. The federal reserve’s inflation fight has meant tighter dollars. And that means less funding for early stage companies at lower valuations.

The focus has been good for the industry. A reminder that we can’t spend our way to innovation. We’ve relied on bigger companies, weaker talent, and unsustainable growth policies while the cash spigot was on.

I enjoyed the win. I’m happy for the founder and the team who will be going to such a great company. I’m happy a lot of investors got a win. But I know that the good mood will have to sustain us through some rough patches. So it’s good we are all banding together and the wins are shared.

Categories
Biohacking Emotional Work

Day 965 and Bounce Back

I had a really shitty day yesterday. I was attuned to the haunted corners in myself and others. I was in an astonishing amount of pain. I got into a fight with a family member over a misunderstanding.

I found myself in a state of reactivity. It’s a huge challenge to manage nervous system regulation for me when I tip from the pain scale from my typical 4-5 to the impossible ignore 7-8 range.

I have become quite used to living with pain that would be distracting for others. I monitor biometrics like my heart rate variability to keep track of how stressed my body is from the pain.

I’ve found it important to learn how to bounce back from unexpected pain. It’s important to stop stress and reactivity in its tracks. If you let stress hijack your nervous system you can do yourself a lot of damage.

I took care of myself last night. I did what I needed to get my nervous system under control and the pain manageable. And it worked.

I turned myself around today. I lifted weights, I meditated, I took my supplements, and I tackled my work load with pleasure. I can feel the fatigue sweeping back in as the day winds up. But I can rest easy knowing I set myself up to bounce back again tomorrow. Budget for the body you have and not the fantasy one which you don’t have.

Categories
Culture Emotional Work

Day 964 and Haunted America

I’ve been getting the sense that more and more of my social circle is uneasy about our cultural moment.

The personal battles being waged are numerous and deadly. The losses feel as if they are mounting even for those of that look objectively successful to the outside.

Health challenges and illnesses are debilitating and expensive. The past traumas of dysfunctional families weigh on the more functional among us. Families struggle to cope with addiction, depression, and suicide. Violence eats around the edges in too many cases.

I see more people pulling back into perceived safety as they look to escape the wounded and the traumatized. We’ve got enough troubles in our own family so why take on problems that aren’t our own?

The ghosts of bad decisions and long troubled histories linger. The weight is heavy and I see people stumbling.