Saturday XXVI • 29 September 2007

I am ADD striving to be OCD. But unlike the rest of you all, I’m not naturally OCD. It’s really unfortunate. No perfectionism anywhere in here. But I am striving to become anal, and instituted a simple new system this week to that end. A dissertation journal. All it is is four lines and a date on a folderful of word files, one for each coming day. The lines are: “Ongoing/ What I Did/ What I will Do Tomorrow/ Memoranda.” "Ongoing" is the slot where I remind myself of to-do tasks I’d prefer to ignore. "What I Did" is the accountability slot. "Memoranda" is where I vent random impressions and creative ideas that don’t fit in the more organized analytical memos I usually write for myself.

But “What I will Do Tomorrow” is the really good part. It saves me at least an hour of getting my shit together every morning. It’s a kind of auto-nomy that short-circuits the tendency to spend the first hour at my desk just lazily planning out the day to come. Following the direction my clear-eyed self put down the night before creates almost the exact same relationship-to-self dynamic as having the asana practice stipulated and not available for rescheduling or second-guessing. It’s liberating.

A mentor (are you still out there, Tadeo Cruz?) told me to do this a long time ago, and I’m a little sad to think of the creative energy I wasted between then and now. 

Funny yoga this morning. I showed up for my usual crim-improv Saturday class, and my friend A had been replaced by my other friend S. S has never taught a yoga class. Had the old Mind-Body Online software been up on the schedule when I checked yesterday, of course I wouldn’t have burdened him by asking him to teach me. And yes, when I walked in on him and his one other student, with whom he was elaborately breaking down Tadasana, he gave me a look of Oh Shit. I shrugged. He shrugged back and said, “We’re sort of doing it Mysore style here. You can do your own thing.” I’m utterly uncreative on the level of asana sequencing, so just took 90 minutes of something resembling third with several greedy inversions thrown in. Crim upon crim. I loved it, in large part because for his unease and inexperience, turns out S has the right kind of presence in the room. I kissed him on the way out and told him to forget about that California BAR Exam he just passed. I hope he will, but student loans may stem that little tide he turned this morning.

Only two links today, because I gotta do what the Dissertation Journal says.

? Apart from the completely insane real estate market, smog factor, and (related) large proportion of residents not embarrassed to drive horrible vehicles, really the only thing I dislike about Los Angeles is the racial segregation. That part is beyond insane. Last year, pace the linked article, we actually had fewer than 100 black students enrolled at UCLA. If you think we’re beyond the days of affirmative action, check out this great article on what’s happened since the policy was abolished around here. Full disclosure: If it weren’t for informal affirmative action, I would still be in rural Montana, shucking **cking corn.

? So the geek Jens Lekman was a hit in the Owl House in recent days before Ornette took over. Here is a video of him singing in a Swedish parking lot last weekend. I always take him as a genuine dork who writes lyrics as if he’s a heartbreaker in hopes of forging an iota of sex appeal. But this makes me think maybe he’s not completely faking it. (Also, how could someone so resembling Matthew Korfhage be a dork?) Sometimes handheld isn’t kitsch, it’s just the best way to be intimate with an artist who doesn’t need anything to set a mood and draw people in. Seriously, his voice is beautiful. And I like this version better than the original, which hinges on a Beat Happening sample that doesn't entirely work for me.