I just wish I could fool my heart not to feel what it feels now...

And I've gathered I love writing to anonymous ex-lovers. I think it is some sort of collective "you" I've got going on. Let me point ten thousand drunken fingers all at once!

In other news, I think a bone in my foot is broken. I really should not have walked from the rooftop on Thomspon and Spring all the way to my place off Avenue B.

FILM4'S "FRIGHTFEST"

"The Brøken" wil be shown on 24 August, 2008, 4pm, at the Odeon (Leicester Square/West End).

Click here for ticket-information.

Please note: single tickets go on sale on Saturday, 26 July, and they sell like fresh bread. So make a note in your calendar.

Telescope Damage: Focuser

I'd been meaning to put up pictures of the damage that my telescopes incurred when they fell of my mount a week or so ago. Here's the focuser of the refractor which snapped. I believe it took the brunt of the fall and sacrificed itself for my bigger scope.

The dent on the mirror cell

This was the most serious damage to the main scope - a dent on the mirror cell. The mirror itself was fine.

The sheared adjustment screw on the finder scope

The finder scope screw that was sheared off will be easy to replace.

Overall, it could have been much, much worse and I'm thankful I'm not having to buy a new telescope.

Broken

Originally uploaded by MrsCJAllen

Since then, you have decided to randomly activate the feature where you lower down to the ground. You are well outside of any sort of 30- or 90-day return window, and I do not think you came with any sort of warranty.

Why must you do this to me? Do you think it's funny when I'm suddenly trying to type at my computer with my hands positioned up over my head so I can reach the keyboard?

Okay, perhaps that is pretty funny.

Yours,

Joel

I thought it would get better over time, and came to find myself in line for just another lame excuse, now i feel i wear a noose, and tonight i am broken. Tonight, you win. I don't know if that's your aim or not but you have reached it.

Screw bad poetry, you fuck with me. End of story.

I'm just tired, and I don't know what the hell you want from me.

Is it faith? Is it piety? Is it love thy neighbor?

Whatever. I'm done. Holy blessed Trinity, forgive me my arrogance and malice, bless this tender child who beats his fist against his chest and cries "Injustice!"

Forgive the scandal I make, for I know that you alone embrace this broken child.

Did you know that the heart is the strongest muscle in the body? 

In my opinion It's the weakest because in life when someone breaks your heart it stays broken.

Sepenggal post yang gw kopi dari blognya Radik. Kayaknya semua orang pernah ngalamin hal seperti ini. Jatuh cinta, patah hati, lalu jatuh cinta lagi. Mencintai, sakit hati, lalu mencoba untuk mencintai lagi. Begitu juga gw.

Dinamika seperti itu juga gak terlepas dari lovelife gw. Anehnya, dari sekian kali gw pacaran, hook-up, atau apalah, gw cuma mampu mencintai satu kali. Dan gw rasa cinta itu jatuh pada orang yang ( mungkin) sama sekali gak tepat. Kenapa gw bilang gak tepat? Karena gw ngerasa takut kehilangan cintanya. Kalo dia orang yang tepat, mestinya gw percaya dunk. It shows through the way he treated me.

Kembali menyitir perkataan Radik di blognya, itu terjadi saat akhirnya gw harus bener2 pergi dari dia. I can't stand it anymore. Gw move on. Yah, sama seperti yang terjadi pada semua orang, hati gw hancur. Baru sekali itu gw tulus nyayangin seseorang selain keluarga & temen2 gw. Ok, gw emang dapetin dia. Tapi berbasic dari sikap dia, secara esensi jelas gw gak dapetin dia.

Dan, beginilah gw sekarang, dg hati yg berantakan. Gak mungkin ya, gw ngelanjutin hidup dg hati yg udah jadi serpihan2 kecil. Gw pun pelan2 nyusun hati itu jadi betuk yang utuh. Lama banget, makan waktu, sakit pula. Tapi meski akhirnya hati itu jadi utuh, gw cuma bisa ngerekatin aja, gak bisa gw ngembaliin ke bentuk semula yang mulus tanpa cacat. Udah ada scar di sana-sini.

Lalu gw coba ngasi hati itu ke orang lain, ke orang lain lagi, ke orang lain lagi. But for godsake, gw belom bisa mencintai orang lain lagi sampe sekarang. Ada apa sih, ini? Terserah lah temen2 gw yg bilang kalo ini proses pendewasaan, fase gw belajar mencintai. Tapi gw gak suka sm keadaan ini. Males gw.

Tapi ya, pada akhirnya gw mau gak mau harus percaya sama statemen ini, "love is when someone breaks your heart, but you still love that person with those each broken pieces". Jelek banget. Gak suka gw.

Ranging in ages from babies to adults, the family consisted of about 14 people (15 if you counted a petite, pregnant 14-year-old who still looked very much like a baby herself) all living in one cluttered room with a dirt floor. They had no heat in the winter or air conditioning in the summer. Their makeshift kitchen was a tiny, rundown stove in a dilapidated shed next to the house and their bathroom was an outhouse with a hole in the ground.

Compared to the one room in which they'd all been living, the casita we built them, which was probably about the size of an average contemporary master bedroom, was a mansion.

I had never been on a mission trip before and had no idea what to expect. The squalor of what I saw affected me deeply. Seeing and playing with the little unkempt children on the street who had no shoes and watching their eyes light up whenever we sang songs with them about Jesus or gave them candy or some small trinket touched me in a way I hadn't expected.

The family we ministered to was very poor and yet, on our last day, they cooked us a wonderful meal of tortillas and beans that I will never forget not only because it tasted so good but because they'd pooled together their last bit of money to buy the food that fed us. Yet they were so happy, so grateful to share the little with us they had. It made me cry.

It also made me realize how truly blessed I was and how I had taken so much for granted.

Through their simple act of unselfishness, that family taught me something. And I realized that even though I had originally gone to give them something, they had inadvertently ended up giving me something.

The minister became the ministered.

That scenario happened again the other day when I was asked to sing at a Bible study for a group of incarcerated women housed in a lock-up facility for inmates who, as part of their probation sentence, are undergoing rehabilitation for drug and alcohol-related crimes.

As with the Mexico trip, I had never ministered to anyone in jail or prison before and had no idea what to expect. My ministry is still very new, only a few months old, and God is slowly but steadily opening doors for me through which I can minister. As a former police reporter, I had been to the police station on many occasions and even made a few trips to the jail to gather information for stories but I'd never been any further than the front desk.

Now I was on the inside of what pretty much amounted to a jail, actually standing before a small group of women who, unlike myself, couldn't simply walk out the door when the Bible study was over.

I had originally been asked to sing one song at the start of the study time. After I sang, I could leave if I wanted or I could stay for the rest of the Bible study. There was a Christian open mike jam happening at a church I wanted to get to, so my plan was to sing my song, maybe speak a little word of encouragement to the ladies the Lord had given me for them and leave. I was going to do this new thing called ministry and make a quiet exit.

Funny how the Holy Spirit works. The minute I stepped into that room and began to set up to sing, I started to get the sense that God had other plans.

I ended up singing three songs, all the songs I had, and as I sang, each time I locked eyes with those ladies (there were about 12 of them all seated on chairs and sofas around me in an semi-circle) and saw how the Spirit of God was speaking to them through the music...how their eyes welled with tears and the naked pain, anguish and despair they felt began to surface on their faces, it made me start to cry and I had to catch myself. In an effort to keep my composure, I tried to look straight ahead, close my eyes or look at the ceiling but it was too late. The tears of those women had seared my heart, leaving an indelible impression.

When I looked at them, I saw myself. The pain they felt was my pain. I recognized their teary countenances because my face had once carried that same teary expression.

Their brokenness was familiar because it was also mine.

I got through the songs, although my voice broke a couple of times.

After the songs, I decided to stay for the rest of the Bible study. During the discussion, one of the girls, whom I later found out never cries, broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. Another one of the women went over to her and warmly put her arms around her. Before she'd started crying, the girl had been talking about how she'd known the Lord as a child but had strayed away when she got older. She talked of letting the light within her burn out and how, before she repented, she'd thought God had abandoned her and didn't love her. It might as well have been me talking.

As the discussion continued, it seemed the overall concern for these women, most of whom were new Christians, was wrapping their minds around the fact that God loved them in spite of themselves and that even though they weren't living this new Christian existence perfectly, God was willing to forgive. But I keep messing up, they would all say. And God still forgives me??? He still loves me???

The answer, of course, was 'yes.'

During my singing and even after when we were all seated around the table talking, as my eyes scanned the faces of each woman, some older and quite a few young, I didn't see criminals. I didn't see alcoholics. I didn't see drug addicts. I only saw broken, hurting, wounded women who wanted desperately to hear and know there was a God who loved them unconditionally...that despite whatever they'd done to end up in that lock-up and despite how others may see them or how they'd been branded, they were worth something in the sight of God.

I saw them through the eyes of the Spirit and I realized that I was just like them. Even though I'd never been in an actual prison, before I turned to Jesus, I had been in prison all right. Only my bars had been invisible. My heart went out to these ladies because we shared a kinship: pain, anguish, guilt, shame. All the brokenness that registered on their faces had been (and still is) my brokenness.

Psalm 34:18-"The LORD is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit."

Psalm 51:17-"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, A broken and a contrite heart— These, O God, You will not despise."

Those women taught me something. Never again will I simply look at a person behind bars or living on the street, smugly dismiss them and think, "Well, they're just a drunk or a dopehead that needs to get their act together!"

There but for the grace of God, that person could have been me. And it could STILL become me if I'm not careful. Pride is a deadly, tricky thing. I don't think anyone wakes up in the morning and consciously decides to become an addict.

The devil is a liar.

He lied to that young girl who didn't believe she was any good or that God loved her just as he'd lied to me in the same way. But praise God:

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me,
      Because the LORD has anointed Me
      To preach good tidings to the poor;
      He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
      To proclaim liberty to the captives,
      And the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
       2 To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD,
      And the day of vengeance of our God;
      To comfort all who mourn,
       3 To console those who mourn in Zion,
      To give them beauty for ashes,
      The oil of joy for mourning,
      The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
      That they may be called trees of righteousness,
      The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” ~Isaiah 61:1-3

I hear God saying, "I got you out of prison, now you go and do for others what I did for you."

I saw a lot of unmined diamonds in that lock-up; I intend to go back and help them discover their luster.

Before I left, I made a point to go up to that girl who'd broken down earlier. I felt led to tell her God wasn't looking for her to be perfect, He just wants her to seek Him.

As I spoke the words, I got the feeling that message was also meant for me.

I'm pretty sure it was.

Yep. I'm starting to pack. After I had a dream last night that it was already a weeks from now and I only had a few more hours left before I had to leave. And in those few hours I had to pack my stuff. Stuff for a year. Yeah, that was kinda my reality-check. I realized that a week isn't that long. And I still have so many people to meet before I leave...

Yesterday something really scary happened. I got on the bus after meeting a friend in town, and I saw this huge cloud of black smoke, on the hill where our house is, just further up, kindof over the hill behind some trees. It looked really huge and scary and black. And it was one of those clouds after an explosion, or at least it looked like one. I told myself that it was probably nothing but I still called my mom at home, just because I'm paranoid and you know... she said she hadn't heard an explosion and that she can't see any black cloud... But as soon as I got home we heard sirens... and in the evening my dad heard on the radio that a house in Meggen (the area right next to lucerne, where we leave, really near us) had burned down completely. And today I read in the newspaper that a barn had burned down. No humans were hurt, but 30 animals died :( There was one singed cow that ran out and then wanted to run back in because it probably had a calf, but the managed to keep it out... and the farmer had gotten awards for his milk cows. They couldn't interview him because he was so shocked... The people that live around the barn said they heard an explosion and then saw 10-20 metre high flames coming out of the barn. I mean really, that cloud was huge, I could see it from the city! Which is about 20 min away from there...

And then today it was really rainy. We had the windows open around noon. And you could smell ashes. The wind probably blew the particles over... we don't live far away at all, so it's possible. And then I had a horrible thought: those ashes aren't just from wood. We were smelling more than just burned wood.

It's sad :( It was the biggest fire in that are in 10 years... The whole barn had burned down by the time the fire department had gotten there... I hope the farmer will be able to keep working... poor guy, I mean, he lost all of his cows and pigs and calfs.

Well... something happier: on the same day, 25 year ago my parents got married :) So they've been married for 25 years... a long time. :)

Today I saw Daria (~chiffonshorts) for the last time before she, and then I leave. :( But we have skype and msn and the internet in general so it won't be so bad :)

You will not believe what just happened to me. Right now. I took a break from writing to go gt some juice and crereal (<3). And I took out the bowl, turned around to get the cereal, and I knocked the bowl to the floor where it broke. So I had to pick the pieces up and make sure there weren't any little parts lying around anymore. BUt that's not all.

Same player tries again, I took another little bowl out, set it on the counter, turned around to get the cereal and it happened all over again. -.-

I broke two old little bowls in 5 minutes. Somehow gravity, or what/whoever, doesn't want me to eat cereal. Why does this stuff happen to me? Ugh vey...

<3

Reader Christopher advocates for a "messy urban vitality" (see previous posts: Overwhelming messiness, Sign of confusion and Sign, sign, everywhere a sign), and recalls a passage from Jane Jacobs' The Death and Life of Great American Cities, an urban planning classic, to reinforce his point. While I am unable to find the passage that Christopher recalls, Jacobs devotes a chapter to "Visual order: its limitations and possibilities." In it she notes that we are bombarded with a variety of impressions on city streets (signs, buildings, storefronts, etc.), and we are able to sort through those and weed out those that are irrelevant to give order to our surroundings, "...unless those impressions are too strong to ignore (emphasis added)." Unfortunately, that is what we face on Milwaukee Avenue in Logan Square.

Relative perspective

City streets can be viewed in relative perspectives: aesthetics vs. usability, the long view vs. the close-up, and a punctuated impression vs. a sustained consciousness, for example.

When I select a photo to post, I zoom in to illustrate a point and crop the photo to eliminate distractions from the point I'm making. Among photos that may illustrate the point, I choose the one most aesthetically pleasing to the appearance of the post.

The photos of restaurants (example below), that I've used so far, lack customers for a similar reason. Without customers, I can show you a better view of what the restaurant itself looks like. If the restaurant were peopled at the time of the photo, it would be messier and not show off the restaurant itself, but the activity in the restaurant. For my blog posts I'm faced with the choice of aesthetics vs. showing the usability of a place. I'm all for the activity and vitality that people bring to a restaurant. In fact it's that usability
that will draw me into a restaurant. A convivial crowd will entice me to try out a restaurant before an empty room will. But a crowded restaurant may not best illustrate a particular point I'm making in a post.

In zooming in on a particular point, I and readers are looking at a part of Milwaukee Avenue in isolation. A wider view of the same subject might convey a different impression. The photo below is a wider view of the storefront where the top photo was taken. Now you no longer vividly see the point about windows becoming blank walls when they are covered in signs that I was illustrating in the top photo, but you see the storefront in a
wider context. You see sign clutter; you see carelessness in a falling sign; you see cardboard boxes stored in the display window; you see water damage on the ceiling; you see chipped tiles; you see a gated doorway that suggests a lack of safety. Of course, you may not be able to identify all those things without zooming in, but I can assure you they are there. What you may like close-up or in isolation, you may not like once you take the long view and have a context.

Even the photo to the left is seen in isolation from the whole of the street. And the whole of present day Milwaukee Avenue in Logan Square conveys a run-down and chaotic impression too strong to ignore. While a one-time visitor may find vitality in the chaos, for those of us who experience it daily, it begins to wear. We have a sustained consciousness of a dirty and dilapidated Milwaukee Avenue that zaps the vitality from the place.

It is not a hopeless situation. There are numerous advantages to Milwaukee Avenue, and the disorder and unpleasantness can be countered with sustained attention to the bits and pieces that may offer some pleasantness and visual delights to convey a visual order to the whole.

A conversation starter: Appealing landmarks or other eye-catchers and unifying elements can give visual order to a city street. What street features help you make sense of a place?

Sensory perception:

On the nearby residential street of Albany, neighbors share this visual delight of baubles and light.

First thing I missed was how the N95 felt so comfortable in my hand, I would just whip it out of my pocket and slide it up, and voila!

Kinda made me feel like a super cool spy or something... or just someone who has too much time playing with phones...

the N82 doesn't have as cool the bells and whistles to it, but I think why I used the two individually in their own right, the N82 more fit my needs.

I go out, and I like to see live music, I see bands pretty frequently, and that was what I needed, the music players were equal and the speakers were both sub par to my stereo, but sounded amazing through the headphones that came with the devices, let alone some noise canceling ones!

So, I'm waiting to find a new phone for my father, he's got my N73, I've got the N82, and I'm carrying stuff around the house in a rubbermaid container... and

This happened on Sunday, on Monday I called Customer Care, they said I'd have to send it out...

Nokia Flagship Store said that Jack's Place is an authorized repair center...

I called S60, to get their approval, since it's not mine to send out...and they said not to worry, but I'm sure I'm on the poopie list...

My fault... stupid stupid dandan!

I was able to plug it into my tv, to get the incoming texts, until I could swap with my father for my N73 back... and I was able to use the RCA jacks to get through all of the syncing to get me back and running... if it had been the other way around, I would've been screwed!

So, now i've blanked all my personal data off the phone, and it's on it's way, to S60, who I really have to regain confidence with!

I was going to be sending it back this week anyway!  Figures!

So now I'm back to my N73, it's still a nice phone, but I think I've been spoiled as of late... I need something more... and for my needs, I'd have to say I NEED the N82... I only wish it was in 3G, because it was not something I can trade... Flash at night for 3G during the day AND night?

What would you do?

I'd really love to hear some more replies, some more debates going on, as I'm really new to the whole Mobile Addiction, but I think I'm catching up quick!

A friend of mine died today. You see this friend was real close to me, like the only brother I had. We grew up together. We rode bikes together. We ate together. We even lived together.

I grew up with this kid, he was the kind of kid that was bashful around people he didn't know and he loved attention. He loved being loved, I mean, well who doesn't?

I loved this guy so freaking much but there is a time when friendships must be broken, trust lost and happiness taken with a wrath. I stopped hanging around this kid a while back, but he seemed to creep into my life recently and I just couldn't push him away. The reason I didn't want this kid in my life was that for a while he had addictions-lust.

He would drag me down to his level take away my sense of security and blindside me with a false joy that is lust.

This kid was so pounded with this problem that I was the only friend that he could trust. Not only was this his problem, but it quickly turned into mine. We would demean these women with seductive thoughts and arrogant glances.

This pride that would dwell would be as if it were a competition with the other joy that was previously instilled-Jesus Christ. This problem that We had was a problem that I had.

I killed my friend, for my friend was me. That part of my regretful past is just that, my past.

I've lived a life of regret for to long. I finally died to my self.

Philippians 1:21 "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." I am forgiven, God knows my past and he knows my future. regardless he still loves me like when he first made me.

2 Corinthians 5:17 "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" God loves me so much, that he sent his only son as a sacrifice to save a dying breed-us. 

I'm pondering this because I've had to put my truck back in the shop only after having it a week that something else choose to not work. Now I wonder. There was an oil pressure trouble with my motorcycle. So does that counts as a tryfecta ( I know spell check said WTF?) Or do i count the troubles with the pool? Still it ticks me off that i get one damn thing fixed or replace and shit look something else is wrong some where in or the house or the truck and bike. Duh and now that i think about it I do have to get this PC upgraded so when I have time to play WoW that my graphics don't freak the hell out and mess the screen up so bad i can't frak'n see what my toon is doing in-game. Well just more uesless info from my mind.

(James Parkinson - Solid Rock Vista, taken fromVision July 11, 2008 )

Reader Christopher has made a couple of comments disagreeing with my take on signage on Milwaukee Avenue in Logan Square (see previous posts: Sign of confusion and Sign, sign, everywhere a sign). He advocates for a "messy urban vitality;" and I suspect he means the "urban edginess" that I have referenced. I thought I'd take an opportunity to address his comments in a larger context.

The larger context is important because, while my individual posts may cover a specific element of Milwaukee Avenue, such as signage, there are a myriad of elements that can contribute to the success or failure of Milwaukee Avenue. Not all elements may need to be addressed--or addressed simultaneously, but some do, as the messiness currently overwhelms the vitality. The proper balance must be sought and maintained to keep the messiness from impeding the revitalization of this stretch of Milwaukee Avenue in Logan Square, while allowing the place to remain urban.

Motor City magnetism

As a young child in the back seat of my parents' car driving into Detroit to visit my grandparents is when I became hooked on the city. I was mesmerized by that messy urban vitality. My strongest recollection of the magnetism is the visual cacophony of signs in the commercial strips. There was a paradox: the signs were both attractive and harsh.

As an adult, I made a choice to live in the city -- first in D.C. (and across the river in Arlington, Virginia), then in Chicago. When it came time to buy a home, I made a choice to buy a two-flat (a vertical duplex) very much like my grandparents' Detroit home. The city made an early and lasting impression.

Varying points of view

Yet my vantage point in passing, looking out from the car window, with a child's eyes, vastly differs from my in the thick of it, usually on foot, adult vantage point. There are several dichotomies of point of view: the passer-through vs. the resident or destination user, car passenger vs. pedestrian, child vs. adult, suburbanite vs. city dweller; and of relative perspective: the long view vs. the close-up, a punctuated impression vs. a sustained consciousness, aesthetics vs. usability.

To be successful, Milwaukee Avenue must find the right balance to appeal to varying points of view. To be a vital commercial strip, Milwaukee Avenue must serve the needs of a diverse group of people. To be successful, it must attract a diverse group of people. No current business owner on this stretch of Milwaukee Avenue has thrown up her hands and said, "That's it! We have too many customers."

A storefront must get the attention of the unfamiliar driver passing through Logan Square along Milwaukee Avenue, probably with signs. Signs for the driver passing through must quickly make a clear statement identifying the business and what's for sale: "Food For Less dollar store here." "Omar's jewelry store here." "Santa Barbara jewelry store over here." An overwhelming number of signs sends too many messages, more than can be absorbed by a driver who is also paying attention to traffic. A visually appealing presentation can also say: "You may want to stop in on your next visit to the area," whereas too much of a mess can say: "We don't bother; why should you?"

A storefront must also appeal to the local resident walking home from the "el," probably with pedestrian-friendly signage and with an attractive window display. If the inside of a store is completely hidden by signs, a new resident may not feel comfortable entering the unknown. A child is more likely to draw his parent into a store if a toy, rather than yet another sale sign, is displayed at his eye level. I am more likely to be check out a store where the merchandise is pleasantly displayed than a store where the window is used as a stock room.

The current perceived disorder and unpleasantness must be countered with some order, some legibility, some pleasantness and visual delights so that the messiness does not overwhelm the vitality.

A conversation starter: How does your point of view affect your experience of Milwaukee Avenue or another urban commercial area?

Next: Visual order