Not long ago I moved to San Francisco, California in order to make a fresh start for myself in a number of different ways. Creating a new home turns out to be a ton of work, especially since I had almost nothing except for a bunch of clothes and my computer with me. I had no housewares, and after spending a week literally putting blisters in my feet trying to find an apartment in which to live, for the first few nights I ate delivery with plastic utensils out of tupperware.

Soon enough, though, and with the help of some inspirational friends (most notably Susan Mernit, Sarah Dopp, James Carp, Emms, and Gabrielle and Tara) things started to come together. I visited Ikea twice for some furniture, but a lot of the other things in my apartment from the futon I sleep on to the plates I eat off of came from friends. I even got a microwave as I started to make mental lists of the things I needed.

Then, without publishing those words, I stopped writing. A year passed. In that time, a lot happened. But San Francisco is no more home today than it was before I arrived. If anything, I feel more out of place than ever. More alone than ever.

I am struggling. No one who thinks they know me, who sees all the stuff I do, no one knows how hard each and every day is for me. No one.

Here’s the Ten Commandments as listed on Wikipedia:

1. I am the Lord your God
2. You shall not make for yourself an idol
3. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of your God
4. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy
5. Honor your father and mother
6. You shall not murder
7. You shall not commit adultery
8. You shall not steal
9. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor
10. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife

Well, it certainly sounds like Insert-Your-Favorite-Deity is having a bit of a power trip. Let’s take a closer look at these commandments, but this time let’s phrase them all in the affirmative.

1. I am the Lord your God
2. You shall identify falsehoods and treat them as such
3. You shall respect the power of words, names, and language
4. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy
5. Honor your father and mother
6. You shall let other living beings live
7. You shall honor the relationship contracts that you enter and those of others
8. You shall honor the property of others
9. You shall uphold truth as you have seen it
10. You shall strive for your own happiness

Doesn’t that sound infinitely better already? Interestingly, I feel that this rephrasing not only covers more ground (e.g., “You shall honor the property of others” turns “You shall not steal” into protections against stealing and vandalism), but it’s also a lot more inclusive of diversity.

Now let’s take this one step further and rephrase even the ones that were originally affirmative so that they not only reflect positive ideals, but also engender self-empowerment in the reader. Now my ten commandments read as follows:

1. I am lord over my own body and mind
2. I identify falsehoods and treat them as such
3. My power comes from words, names, and language
4. I honor my memories and choose my traditions
5. I honor my chosen family
6. I protect and create free life
7. I demand respect for the relationship contracts I enter and grant respect to those of others
8. I gift wealth to others
9. I uphold my own convictions
10. I spread joy

I wonder what kind of world we would live in today if this list had been the Ten Commandments so fervently adhered to. Since nothing in life is unchangeable, I’m going to start believing that these self-empowering words are the Ten Commandments for me.

(This announcement was originally made on another blog of mine, but I’m cross-posting it here to spread the word rapidly.)

The core of the project is a sexual health education and empowerment video campaign highlighting the reality that we learn about sex from disparate sources in many locations. I believe that the time has come for people to realize that “sex education” is not, has never been, and never should be confined to health class. I believe that young people, sexuality minorities, and certain other disenfranchised groups (still including, sadly, women) have an enormously important role to play in reforming the empty-vessel, top-down model of education and turning it into a peer-to-peer meritocracy where accurate information wins out over misinformation because it saves lives rather than being politically expedient.

And I believe that this change is only possible when it comes from the very people who need such change most: young men, women, and other people like you and me.

That’s why Emma and I have put together a proposal for the project and submitted it to the International Women’s Health Coalition Young Visionaries contest, a contest that, if we win, would seed our project with $1000 USD of necessary funding to get it off the ground. Part of the criteria for winning the contest is based on popular vote, which means I need your votes to win.

If this sounds like a project worth supporting, please go to the Sex Ed Everywhere IWHC voting page and click on “Vote” right next to our picture. And then come back and vote again the next day, and every day until voting ends on March 25, which I understand is totally fair for the competition!

Here is an excerpt of our proposal for the IWHC Young Visionaries contest:

With the $1000 grant from the IWHC Young Visionaries contest we will fund a sexual health education and empowerment video campaign that highlights the reality that we learn about sex from disparate sources in many locations. The heart of this campaign, which we call SexEdEverywhere (“SEE”), will begin with a competition calling for submissions of 30 to 90 second videos that will be reviewed and featured on a network of 5 (or more) microsites over time. The campaign will be based at SexEdEverywhere.com, a website that will actively engage the people to whom it will speak: women and youth across the globe.

[…]

Our vision of lasting change is to create a world in which accurate information about sexual health and freedoms reaches more students and young people than suffer from misinformation or a knowledge deficit. By engaging young people in the creation and distribution of knowledge, we hope to help them recognize their power to enact social justice in their local communities. This would be a world in which women and young people are aware of their sexual and reproductive rights from an early age, and are empowered to make informed decisions for themselves and educate those around them.

Please vote for SexEdEverywhere and help us SEE a world where everyone is aware of their sexual and reproductive rights! Thank you for your daily voting support!

Economy of opportunity

I recall that when I first came to San Francisco and started looking for work, the first interview I had began with a very telling exchange.

“May I ask you a personal question?” the interviewer asked me.

“Of course,” I said, bracing for a question about my sex life, which I’m very open about online, or about my views on education, which are radical if not heretical. My beliefs clash so dramatically with so much of traditional Western society, and yet I’d never been asked a directly personal question at a job interview before. I was almost looking forward to it. But the question I got wasn’t anything I could have expected.

I was asked: “Are you crazy coming to San Francisco without a job in this economy?”

“I’m sorry?” I said, surprised.

“You said you got an apartment before you had a job lined up.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I confirmed.

“That’s very brave,” the interviewer said.

I smiled silently to myself, mentally noting that my interview of this company, the one I conduct simultaneously as any company’s hiring managers were interviewing me, was showing results. I reasoned that I probably wouldn’t want to work there.

“I don’t think of it as being brave,” I said after a moment’s pause. “I choose to believe that, with my skills, I can find a way to do whatever I want. I believe everyone can, if they only believed it, too. So I don’t need to be brave, I just need to be resourceful.”

I didn’t end up in that job but, obviously, I did find a job quickly because otherwise I wouldn’t be quitting that job now. :)

I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a strange breed. A careful look at my résumé will reveal two somewhat odd things. First, that I’ve almost never kept a single “9-5″ (job) for more than a year. Second, the entire education section, often mistakenly believed to be “required” in résumés, is—and always has been—completely missing.

It’s therefore unsurprising that a very common question I get asked during interviews (and parties, and when I’m out at bars, and basically all the time with everyone, always) is, “where did you get your degree?” It’s a funny question because I don’t have a degree. I don’t have a high school diploma. I don’t even have a GED. In fact, I never actually graduated from middle school.

“Why don’t you go to college? You’d love university!” I’m frequently told. Although I love learning, and although I believe that education is one of if not the most important thing in the entirety of human experience, of life, our society, species, and even existence, I vehemently fought to free myself of the poisonous, debilitating reach of schools and institutionalized education way back in 2^nd grade.

The fight was painful and unnecessary, damaging me like almost nothing else possibly could. I feel less capable, less skilled, less intelligent, and a less happy person today because of that miserable fight to leave school. However, I believe I would have been even worse off succumbing to the incessant dulling of my creativity had I relented to “the educational system.”

When they learn some of my history, people are often quick to credit my current abilities to this dreadful experience, or else they dismiss my insistence that I deserved better by saying, “No pain, no gain.” But I reject the cruel idea that misery is necessary to build character or strength, as well as the misguided compliment that I am somehow better, stronger, or more abled than “normal” people for having experienced a largely unhappy life. Although I certainly learned a lot during my fight to leave the school system, that was a result of my human nature, not an inherent characteristic of the painful struggle.

My traditional successes, such as having little problem finding well-paying work, for instance, coupled with my lack of formal education makes me exceptional only in the literal sense: I do not meet most people’s expectations in many ways. But my unique experiences also exposed me to a profound truth that many others aren’t as fortunate to be routinely confronted with: we live in an economy of opportunity. We always have, and we always will. As Tim Robbins is fond of saying, the problem is never resources, it’s resourcefulness.

You might be familiar with Warren Buffet’s well-known advice, “be fearful when others are greedy and greedy when others are fearful.” But the whole of his sentence was, if [investors] insist on trying to time their participation in equities, they should try to be fearful when others are greedy and greedy when others are fearful. In other words, it is always the right time to do the right thing, regardless of the market’s current circumstance.

The value of appropriate valuation

Conventional wisdom says I shouldn’t quit a good job in a rough time. But it’s a matter of valuing appropriate valuation: even though they provide negligible or no monetary income, I value my “personal” projects, the Kink On Tap sexuality netcast, the free (as in free and as in freedom) KinkForAll unconferences, the “not safe for work” and subversive exploration of sexually submissive masculinity, the various digital outreach and educational efforts for queer people that I help with, and many other projects of mine, far, far higher than the salary I was getting working in my day job. And besides, I have been defying conventional wisdom my whole life.

When I was a pre-teen, I was diagnosed with early-onset bipolar disorder and handed medications. After 6 years being told it was impossible, I had completely stopped taking the pills my doctors were still prescribing. I’ve remained clinically “stable” (doctor-speak for “just fine, thank you very much”) for the 7 years since.

Throughout my school and early teen years, I was told lies about reality by caring but fearful and brainwashed adults. Lies like “you’ll never get a job if you don’t graduate” are, depressingly, still repeated to children today. Of course, a quick look through the histories of some of the most successful and influential people on the planet—people like Albert Einstein, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Rosa Parks, and Mae West—show that this fearmongering is complete rubbish.

Just as I love learning but hated schooling, I love doing good work but hate working at jobs. I’m quitting my day job because I feel similarly about it to the way I felt about school. The idea that people have to sacrifice what they want to do by segregating it into whatever crevices of their lives are left after they forfeit 8 hours a day (and often much more than that) to their job is a reprehensible illusion that the school system conditions many to accept and which corporatism, consumerism, and classism perpetuate every day.

The institutionalized indoctrination laughably dubbed education that’s widely deployed today is a travesty, a prison for the young. Similarly, the rigid, outdated understanding of “having a job,” especially as the only valid form of “contributing to society,” is an economic jail for the working class.

To borrow a phrase from Mark Twain, I have never let my schooling interfere with my education. Now I will also no longer let my job interfere with my work.

Pricelessness and survival

Many of our current societal systems are unsustainable. We all know it. We’ve all felt the effects.

Global financial crisis. Depreciation of college degrees. Ecological disasters. Massive civil unrest resulting in groups of unhappy, violent people (“terrorists”). If we as the human race are going to survive the century, we simply have to change the rules of this game. And that starts with normal people like you and me committing to doing what we want to do, not what we were told we have to do. I wasn’t comfortable playing by the rules of the so-called well-schooled majority, and I’m no longer comfortable playing by the rules of this economy. I now aim to change it.

And I’m not willing to merely survive, because I demand excellence and happiness. I demand it of myself, and so I demand it of you. Watching the clock while thinking about doing other, “non-job” things is not a valuable investment to me.

Unlike school, however, at work I also have a responsibility to others, not just myself. Whereas poor performance at school largely hinders only oneself, poor performance—and, by extension, lack of interest—at work directly impacts co-workers. And y’know what, I have more than enough respect for my co-workers to believe that they should be working with someone who really wants to be there, because that person exists.

I believe that everyone should be thusly respected. Was it a mistake to take this job and quit only 4 months down the line? Maybe. But mistakes we learn from are good things. It is right of me, upon realizing that I no longer want to be where I was, to leave, to change my status-quo. It would be wrong to pull up a facade of either indifference or resignation because neither of those can inspire excellence.

On a personal note, it’s worth saying that I’ve quit jobs before but, this time, I didn’t quit because I no longer like the job. If I were a different person, or the same person 2 years ago, the job I had would’ve been great. This time I quit because I’ve finally gotten to the point where my skills are well-developed enough and my desires well-formed enough that I know enough about what I want to do, and I believe that I can do it.

I believe there is more value in doing, being, and getting what I want than in sacrificing it. I believe that there is more richness in the world than can be measured with all the world’s riches.

Doing good work is priceless not because its execution is necessarily of superb quality, but because its value can only be determined by the people who find it useful to them. But I can’t magically transport us out of the economic jail of living paycheck-to-paycheck that so many of us are in. It’s going to take many intermediate steps to get us from here to a place where the value that people create by doing what they love is also what sustains us.

And I have only the vaguest of idealistic dreams for how I’m going to help get us there. But I do have those dreams, and I can’t ignore them.

They say that when there’s a will, there’s a way. Well, I have more will, more skill, more knowledge, and thus more opportunity today than ever before. Now, imagine what kind of world we would inhabit if you, your friends, and all the people who look up to you understood that their opportunities today, like mine, are greater than they’ve ever been before.

That, dear fellows, is the value of passion. And no matter what your schoolteachers or bosses might tell you about “the way things are,” passion—excellence, not resigned acceptance—is the key to survival.

“You’re still wearing these,” each of these friends said to me as they slipped a finger underneath one of them.

“I know,” I reply each time. “I’m still figuring out how much of them are me, and how much of them are Sara.” Who am I today, without the life I thought I’d have?

New York City has been a difficult place to be in. Instead, I have spent much of my time North, shuffling between Boston and Providence. The “organized” Boston communities are vastly divergent from The Scene that I am used to. I like the differences—I like that they exist, and that one place is different from another—even if I don’t like all the specifics.

In Boston, I attended the second NEPups.org puppy munch. I went with a friend and met a few gay pups and a kitty girl, and I spoke about queer masculinities and how uncomfortable I feel in the gay communities I’ve tentatively explored. I have never been gay, and I still feel a twinge of discomfort “admitting” to bisexuality in such spaces.

I have a growing connection to Providence. In large part, this is due to the people I’m coming to think of as the sun girl and the metal boy. They are young (younger than I am), which for the first time in my life is a notable thing. They live in slow time and enjoy the physical world in ways that are not entirely new yet not entirely familiar to me. There is much of Sara—a goodness and comfort—in each of them.

The metal boy in particular has been a quiet revelation for me. I find myself more unsure around him than I would have thought, as though I am younger, less experienced, more hesitant. I’ve been sexual with other men before but only now, after being with him, can I wholly and without silent reservation answer “Yes” to the still often asked question, “Are you really bi?” The sun girl, for her part, is in many ways a pure blessing. She is magic and warmth and a grounding force that has helped me move forward.

My trip to San Francisco these past five days proved useful but disappointing. It’s now obvious to me that the plan I had conceived before I left Sydney and which I so steadfastly tried to make happen despite the financial and emotional burdens of losing my relationship with Sara will not actually work. I’m thankful that I met with several other friends who have each generously offered support and crash space for my planned arrival time in late June. It may have perhaps been destined for me to be alone (but not isolated) when I arrive in San Francisco; it’s been almost a decade in the making for me by now.

I’ve been to San Francisco twice before this trip, but I’ve never been so happy to leave it before. I am still determined to move there, but as I write this in my airplane seat somewhere over the landlocked middle of the continent, I find myself eagerly awaiting a return to Providence. I can’t stay on the East coast, but I can’t leave. Not yet, not when there is still so much for me to do here.

My thoughts are consistently drawn to productive pursuits; my second CSS book, my sexuality projects (KinkForAll.org and MaleSubmissionArt.com). I feel strong in ways I’ve never felt before: I bend the world. I change reality. I can.

But I’m still so, so sad, and so, so pained. I don’t cry every day anymore, but I do feel overwhelmed by it. I suspect that, in part, Sara left me because I am so driven by the things I need to change rather than the things that work. Some parts of me want to reach a point where I’m no longer fueled by things that way, but other parts of me doesn’t. As one Bostonian friend fondly reminds me, “All progress is the work of unreasonable men.”

I speak about KinkForAll so often everywhere I go that I’m uncertain whether I’ve latched onto it or if it has latched onto me. I fear for it like a father fears for a child growing too fast and yet I keep pushing it out from underneath my own auspice because I know it can’t ever be what I want it to be without experience in the world. The weekend after I was in Boston, KinkForAll Boston was set into motion by the people I spoke with there and now I am determined to be a part of it.

In the mean time, I am also thinking and becoming increasingly excited about the Sex 2.0 presentations I will give on May 9^th. In particular, I’ll get to meet the likes of Sarah Dopp, one of the inspirations for the Gender and Technology presentation that was accepted (and seems to be in increasingly high demand) at the Sex 2.0 conference. I’m just learning to speak with the people I admire to that degree, and in a week and a half I’m going to stand up and present my own version of the very things they inspire me to be. I will feel like I am standing in front of the very giants whose shoulders I stood on when I was across the planet.

So again, I ask myself, who am I? What is my sexual submissiveness without the dominant presence that revived it when I had given it up those four long years ago? What is my career when I have achieved, for me, an unprecedented level of recognition after 8 long years of being in the workforce? What is my contribution to my own future, and to people like me who are still young children today?

What kind of man am I if so much of the world I live in refuses to see manliness in what I am? Because today, having considered the possibility that I was perhaps a woman at earlier stages of my life, it turns out I am a man. And I am going to make the world know it is good to be the kind of man I am.

On that front, I’m now looking at the amazing possibility of helping people in sexuality communities who have contacted me from Washington DC, Toronto, and San Francisco emulate the success of New York City’s event in their own hometowns. But not yet…. Not quite.

As the unconference ended, Sara and I were joined by a group of over 20 friends (and friendly acquaintances) for dinner at a nearby Asian restaurant. Despite my hunger (I only ate at the behest of my concerned friends during the day ’cause I was so busy), I didn’t want to finish my meal; I knew that would be the end of dinner, and the day. Nevertheless, day turned to night and as Sara and I walked around the corner for a modicum of privacy, excitement gave way to sadness and we said (temporary) goodbyes in tears.

I retreated from the city then, headed towards Providence, Rhode Island to stay with close friends who generously offered me the opportunity to create a small sanctuary in their spare room. This has been helpful, and I can begin to feel myself recovering, but I’m still having trouble grounding myself in the here and now or focusing on the new tasks at hand. For one thing, there are so many, and for another thing, they are so vastly different from what I’ve just done that mentally changing gears so radically, so quickly, under so much pressure, is actually painful.

When I moved my self and my life half way around the globe to Sydney last year, I felt optimistic about what I would find. Sadly, I didn’t find what I wanted. Now, having moved myself and my life all the way back across the planet and then some, I’m determined to make what I want—because it doesn’t exist yet, and no one knows what it’s going to look like…except me.

My hosts, Emms and Zac, are nothing short of a godsend. They are literally a healing warmth of a magnitude I could not possibly express adequately in words. Unfortunately, shortly after arriving in their home, I fell ill. Of course, this is not at all a surprise considering my physiological history for exactly such mind-body connection.

My attempts to focus on my writing (for my second and much more advanced web development book on CSS I’m authoring; my first book was much more 101-level) have been only partially successful, but I’m encouraged by this anyway. As Emms told me last night while cooking a pasta dinner for us all, “Comfort yourself with the standards of the world,” a piece of advice she wisely preceded with, “Now’s the time to focus on only the most important parts of your chapters.” This, all while taking my hand every time my eyes unexpectedly overflow with the salt water I feel like I’ve been storing up in them.

I’m a little…not annoyed…chagrined at the admission that yesterday was the first full day in more than 4 weeks that I didn’t cry at all. Not only this, but earlier today while my hosts were at their day jobs and I mainlined enormous quantities of tea as though it were a blood transfusion, I couldn’t stop myself from crawling backwards in time towards happier memories. I cried again, embarrassingly loudly since no one was home, and resigned to let my head rest for a while instead of forcing it further into failing attempts to create reusable patterns of CSS code for styling semantic markup.

To help with the memories, I’ve been playing MGMT‘s Kids on repeat for what must be an hour or more now. I first heard it on Australia Day (apparently Australia’s almost-equivalent of America’s Columbus Day), which Sara and I spent with Janek and company at his house on a tropical, warm, rainy day in Sydney. The radio was playing all day but the only song I remember was this one because, somehow, it stood out like a spotlight. I remember laying on the couch in the living room with my head in Sara’s lap, eyes closed, as she pet my head and I purred along with the kittens in the far corner of the room. The memory is emblazoned in my mind’s eye as a vivid still frame.

When Zac came home and gave me a hug to comfort my tears, he remarked on the song. “It’s always weird to hear this song,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because Emms and I went to college with them—the band.”

And now I have two memories.

My flight from Sydney to New York City was less than good, better than terrible. I already knew I hated United Airlines, now I’m just more committed never to flying with them again. More than that, I’m frustrated that my flight was so dependent on choices Sara’s family made for her without consideration for me. If little else, I’m happy to be finally out of reach of their influence.

It’s been weeks, literally, since I haven’t cried at one point or another, usually multiple, in the day. I’ve been falling asleep in either tears or unmatched stress and restlessness—each has benefits over the other. Last night was no different.

Today I have errands to run for the KinkForAll New York City event I’m helping to run tomorrow. I’m extremely proud of the work Sara and I have managed to accomplish on it not only for the first time ever in our lives but also literally from the other side of the planet.

Simultaneously, I’ve been chasing and feeling continually frustrated by failing to make significant-enough progress on writing my book on CSS. My co-author Joe has been fantastic, and one particular employee, Clay, from the publisher has also been equally supportive. However, the rest of this project feels extremely precarious and that is endlessly aggravating.

It’s aggravating because it was a project I sincerely wanted to see done well, and have been working toward for a long time. I quit my day job something like 6 months ago now in order to focus on getting it accomplished successfully, but I am now further behind than I was then. Despite my best efforts, life kept throwing me curveballs to the point where I already know it’s not going to be the book I wanted it to be. I’m extremely angry at…everything…for that.

As if that weren’t enough, as many already know by now, Sara and I are no longer together, for reasons I’d rather not discuss quite yet. As painful as this would be in general, this is even more painful when seen in light of the fact that it’s one of the reasons my book has suffered. The book isn’t some great money-maker for me, but rather an opportunity for professional exposure and recognition that I’ve been working towards for 8 years—that’s how long I’ve been making money in the web development industry. To have that opportunity suffer pours salt into wounds that moving to Sydney in the first place had already re-opened and which the loss of this relationship is a 3^rd degree burn.

All in all, I’m struggling to keep professional commitments afloat, organizing a first-of-its-kind unconference for the sexuality communities in New York City, ending a 4-year relationship (with the person I’m organizing the unconference with), and moving across the planet. All. At. Once.

I want to change the channel off of this ridiculous soap opera, but can’t. Instead, I keep playing everything in fast-forward in my head until I can again see a point somewhere in the hopefully not too distant future where everything I’ve worked on is successful and I’m peaceful once again. Please let that day be soon.

However, there are some occasions when a text-based response to a complicated question isn’t very helpful because it requires so much extra work to understand. For me, the most common example of this sort of issue has always been in looking at time-based information, and more specifically, calendars. Whenever I’m on my machine, I almost always need to look at a calendar.

In the past, I used to go all the way over to iCal. Sure, I can do this using keyboard shortcuts only, but sometimes all I want is a quick answer to “what date is this upcoming Friday?” In situations like that, I’ve lately begun using the cal command, and my oh my, what a timesaver.

cal is kind of like man for dates. Of course, you can get more info by saying man cal to your prompt. The cal program, installed by default on almost all UNIX-based systems (including Mac OS X), has a ton of useful options. However, most of the time, I don’t need more than a few.

For instance, let’s say I just want a calendar of the current month. I can get get a compact, simple month view instead of going to iCal by saying just cal at the command line:

Perseus:~ maymay$ cal
     April 2008
Su Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa
       1  2  3  4  5
 6  7  8  9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19
20 21 22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29 30

Other options let me ask other questions of cal. Easy, simple, fast. I like it.

Even better, iiNet’s naked DSL service comes with a bundled VoIP plan. This is just as awesome as the Internet service. International calls, I discovered, are only 6 cents a minute to the United States. This means I have options like Skype and really cheap VoIP calls. Not bad for a country in the “technological stone age.”

The only way I could get my Vodafone 3G card to work was to fire up a Windows XP guest inside of my MacBook Pro, using VMware Fusion. Connecting to the Internet with the 3G card using the Windows guest was smooth sailing, but that only provided the Internet connection to the Windows virtual machine. I wanted my Mac to be directly connected.

The solution is obvious, but a few gotchas really bit me hard. To get the Windows guest to share its Internet connection from the 3G card to my Mac, I would need to bridge VMware’s virtual ethernet adapter from the Windows guest to the Mac OS X host. Once bridged, both the Windows guest and the Mac OS X host would logically be on the same ethernet network segment. At this point, I can enable Windows XP’s built-in Internet Connection Sharing (stupidly dubbed “ICS” because everything needs a TLA) on the 3G connection so that Windows NATs it through to the bridged virtual ethernet card. Finally, I can connect to Vodafone’s 3G network, and all should be well.

Here’s the gotchas.

First, in order for VMware to actually initiate the network bridge when it starts up, it must detect that a physical link is active on your Mac. In other words, Mac OS X’s Network System Preferences pane must show you a yellow dot next to at least one physical networking device (probably either your “Built-in Ethernet” or your “AirPort” ports). VMware Fusion will give you no errors or warnings that a bridge is unavailable until you try to connect your virtual machine’s network while set to bridge, in which case VMware Fusion will complain with an error that reads: “The device on /dev/vmnet0 is not running.”

Obviously, if you have no other devices to connect to, you need to fake one. The easiest way to do this is to set up a Computer-to-Computer network using AirPort. Just go to your AirPort menu bar item and select “Create Network…” and create the network (preferably encrypted). If you check System Preferences now, you should see a that AirPort has a yellow dot next to it and reads as having a “Self-Assigned IP Address.” Now that you have a physical link on your AirPort card, you should be able to start the VMware Fusion virtual machine with bridged networking mode without incident.

However, if you do encounter the above error anyway, you need to restart the VMware network bridge. You can do this either by shutting down VMware completely (turn off your guest operating systems, and quit the VMware Fusion application), or you can run the following commands as an administrator in Terminal, which will stop any bridge currently running (or do nothing if no bridge is running) and then restart it, providing the output as shown:

sudo killall vmnet-bridge
sudo "/Library/Application Support/VMware Fusion/vmnet-bridge" -D vmnet0 ''
Entering event loop...
Examining network configuration...
Turning on bridge with host network interface en1...

Obviously, you may be asked for your password as you perform this procedure. Note that the trailing two apostrophes are single quotes with no space. This is (almost) how the VMware Fusion boot.sh script starts and stops the network bridge. Specifically, you’re telling the vmnet-bridge application to run in Debug mode and to bridge vmnet0 to whatever is the current primary networking interface. In the example output shown above, this is en1, or my AirPort card connected to the computer-to-computer network I created in the previous step.

Hopefully you won’t have to mess with the vmnet-bridge application, as this should happen on its own when you start up VMware Fusion if you have any physical link on a network device. Nevertheless, I’ve found this is sometimes unreliable, so just in case it doesn’t now you know how to bring up the bridge on your own. (Tip: once it’s up, you can CTRL-Z to pause it, re-start it with fg %1 and then quit Terminal if you like. The bridge will still be up.)

Now that the AirPort card has a physical link, and the VMware network bridge is running, the next step is to configure your virtual machine to use bridged networking. Just go to Virtual Machine → Network → Bridged as normal. Make sure Connected is also selected. Now start up your Windows guest.

Once Windows boots, go to the Network Connections window by selecting Start → Connections → Show all connections. At this point, your “Local Area Connection” in Windows probably has a warning sign on it and reads as having “Little or no connectivity.” It probably has a self-assigned IP address just like your AirPort card. That’s fine—as long as it’s not “unplugged,” we’re in good shape.

Next, select whatever other connection you want to share the Internet from (in my case, the 3G modem, but it could also just be any other connection in the window), right-click it and select Properties. Go to the Advanced tab and make sure “Allow other network users to connect through this computer’s Internet connection” is checked. The other boxes won’t matter.

What this does is turns on Windows’ own NAT service that configures the one connection (the one your sharing) as the WAN side of (yet another) virtual networking device and the Local Area Connection (the one we’ve bridged to our AirPort or Built-in Ethernet card on our Mac) as the LAN side. Hit OK as many times as is necessary to close the network connection properties windows and wait a few moments. Sometimes this can take up to 30 seconds or so, but eventually you’ll see Windows announce that “Local Area Connection is now connected.” If you inspect it, you’ll see that the IP address configuration has been automatically assigned as a “Manual Configuration” with the address of 192.168.0.1, a subnet mask of 255.255.255.0, and no default gateway.

As a last step, now we can actually connect to the Internet using whatever service we have. In my case, this is when I hit the “connect” button on my Vodafone Mobile Connect software. Once the connection is established and the Windows XP virtual machine can see Internet, it takes up to another minute or two (or three) for the Mac’s connection to get an IP address from the Windows guest, but it invariably works.

If the Windows side of things is giving you any trouble, the most reliable solution I’ve found is to simply disable, then re-enable whatever connection isn’t behaving as desired. If after all of this your Mac still doesn’t get an IP address from the Windows XP guest, disconnect and then re-connect the virtual machine’s ethernet card (by toggling the “Connected” menu item in the Virtual Machine → Network menu). Also, of course, be doubly sure that your AirPort is set to “Use DHCP.”

Phew! So simple…and yet so much harder than it had to be. I found the following two PDF documents very helpful in understanding all of this. You might too:

1. VMware Fusion Network Settings — a super-brief, but excellent introduction to VMware’s network setting internals. It’s also a PDF download attached to the linked forum thread.
2. Share Windows XP Guest Internet Connection with OS X Host HOWTO — This basically describes the same thing this post does, but it does so using absolute step-by-step instructions. It’s also a PDF download attached to the linked forum thread.

Leeching this wifi is incredibly uncouth, I know, but I justify my behavior with the fact that I absolutely must ensure that my finances are in order in time for things like rent payments and every other opportunity to use the Internet—my only means of banking at this point—have been unavailable. Indeed, even the most common “free hotspot” service in this city, uConnect, provided by Unwired, shuts off at 7 PM. In fact, most of the city shuts off relatively early, save for nightspots and pubs.

The University of Sydney campus is, for the most part, closed on weekends. Those of you familiar with New York’s collegiate services would be appalled at the notion of something like your college library being closed at anything other than normal 9-5 business hours, but that seems the norm here. Similarly, back to the Internet access frustrations, all (and I mean every) bit of bandwidth you use on the University’s network is monitored and, ultimately, limited. The University has a Squid HTTP proxy set up which you must use to get anywhere on the Internet, but each account has a bandwidth cap of 2 MB per day, barring cache hits, of course. Beyond that, and you pay by the megabyte.

All Internet access, it seems, has bandwidth caps like this. There’s a veritable alphabet soup of ISPs that provide similar services, most over ADSL technology, since cable is hard to come by. Very frustrating, as I’ve never before had to think about how and where my bandwidth is being spent.

In any event, aside from the Internet access woes which were sadly unexpected, there are a number of other things about Sydney that are very different that New York City.

In restaurants, water is either self-serve or comes in bottles instead of being poured into glasses. This is a great idea, because it means I’m much more likely to actually have water when I want it. Also, waiters and waitresses expect no tip, so your bill is all you pay. This has two side effects, one rather nifty, and the other very uncool.

First, because your waiter isn’t your personal server for the meal, any and all waiters will wait on you at your behest. None of this, “I’ll call your waiter” non-sense. Makes restaurants seem much more cohesive, egalitarian—a theme in this country. Secondly, because wait staff get no tips, they get paid much better than they do in the states, which in turn raises prices for the meals. This goes so far as to change the prices on menus during “public holidays,” when—presumably—wait staff get paid time and a half. Menus often say “surcharge applies on public holidays and weekends” to indicate this.

And speaking of menus, there’s a whole different language for coffee here than in the states. Regular coffees as we know them in NYC are called “long blacks” here. Contrast this with a “short black,” or single espresso. “Flat whites” are lattes served in coffee cups, whereas “lattes” are lattes served in regular water glasses. Why the distinction? I have no idea.

Some things are the same. Mochas, for instance, are coffee with chocolate. (So are the “stop” buttons on the public transit busses, but I digress.) Other coffee slang bits sound way too Starbucks-ese for me to like them, such as “Vienna long black,” which just means a long black (regular) coffee with whip cream on top.

If you order any coffee, don’t expect a refill—there’s no such thing as free refills here. In fact, everything, even the tiniest bit of luxury, is charged here. It costs you 10 cents per printed (B&W) page at the University of Sydney computer labs to print anything (but pages here are not the normal 8-and-a-half-by-11 that you’re used to in the States). If you want hot water at the showers after taking a swim at Bondi Beach, for example, then you drop a 20 cent coin into the shower stall. Say you want some condiments for your fish and chips, like ketchup? That’ll cost you 80 cents in addition to the price of your food. Tartar sauce is more expensive, at $1.10 per several-ounce dish.

Food in general is obscenely expensive, and at first I thought it was just me, but after talking to locals it seems everyone’s noticed the price increase. The past 7 summers in Australia have been very dry, so dry that the drought caused harvest yields to decrease dramatically, raising food prices by more than 30% in the past several years. Couple this rising inflation concerns, weakening U.S. Dollar strength, and what I’m left with as an International traveller is the grim prospect of paying almost $15.00 (USD!) for a bacon and egg breakfast with a single, non-refillable coffee at any decent café.

Similarly expensive are spirits and liquor, which in addition to being taxed at 10% like everything else under Australia’s national “Goods and Services Tax” (GST), have an additional tax associated with them dependent on their alcohol content. This means my favorite liquor, Tequila, costs about $70 AUD for a 750 ml bottle of Cuervo. Forget the really good stuff like 1800 Resposado or Patron, which are upwards of $100 for the same amount. Sigh.

As a result of all of this, my money is not going nearly as far as I would have hoped. I am looking forward to having an actual apartment—with an actual kitchen—because at least when that happens I can stop paying exorbitant prices for food. It’s nearly impossible to cook in the hostels Sara and I have been staying at because they’re simply uncomfortable, not private, and not very well-equipped. And to top it all off, I think my hostel’s bed is giving me allergies.

I have a job offer, assuming I can get permission to work from the New South Wales government. Ironically, permission to work is also something I have to pay for—how crazy is that?—so I’ve had to rush to set up bank accounts as soon as I got into the country. The banks, for what it’s worth, are surprisingly good even though everyone here says they are terrible thieves. This makes me think no one from this country would be able to put up with any bank from the States.

The best thing about my bank is that it has CSV, QIF, and MNX download options for every single data table presented on their web site. This is, interestingly, the biggest selling point for me but something no one at the bank had any clue about. It’s not mentioned in their marketing material, their sales staff had never heard of it, and the only reason I knew it existed was because I saw a screenshot with the words “export data” on the corner. I took a chance and set up my account with them based on this screen shot and it looks like it payed off. Machine-readable financial interchange, baby!

Conclusions? This country is in what I consider to be the bronze age when it comes to technology. Only the elite technophiles—looked down upon as “tall poppies” here, rather a bad thing what with the whole egalitarian society thing—even know their way about anything other than a web browser or Microsoft Office. That being said, everyone knows how to lock their wifi, even if they don’t know how to change the channel so that they can actually broadcast that signal more than 10 feet in any direction.

My name is Meitar Moscovitz, and I am hoping that this letter serves two purposes. First, I want to express to you an enormous degree of thanks that, no matter how I try to codify it in writing this letter, seems to defy explanation. In part, this is because I have yet to understand just what sort of impact learning about you and your work is going to have on me. My (as yet admittedly slim) exposure to your work came first about two years ago when I saw your presentation appear on the TEDTalks video blog.

It was informative at the time, but I failed to make the information personally applicable to me then. Today, however, I am finding myself in a situation that is, for want of a better explanation with the ability to include copious back-story, at the point before a major turning point in my life in three major ways. (I am moving to Australia from New York City, where I have lived all of my life, with a girlfriend with whom my relationship is “complicated.”) As I’m sure many other people have done when presented with such a life-changing event, I am asking myself why I’ve never been able to “be happy” before, and whether such drastic change is really going to help.

A part of my story, and the second reason why I’m writing you, is that at the age of twelve I was diagnosed as having bipolar disorder. That diagnosis became an explanation for others to explain my dissatisfaction with my life, yet it’s an explanation I have always felt lacked real substance, even if it did put at least one more piece of the puzzle together. As far back as I can remember, I have always been wanting, rarely able to work joyfully, rarely able to love without fear.

Today, when I watched your talk on the TEDTalks video blog again, a lot of things you said became instantly pertinent in ways it had not been two years prior the first time I saw it. Suddenly, thanks to many other “pieces of the puzzle” beginning to fall into place, especially those that began to explain hardships in concrete ways (my various relationship struggles not least of them), I was able to understand how and why I might differ in regards to my seeming inability to achieve lasting happiness, in contrast with certain friends and, indeed, my girlfriend, who seems remarkably capable in this department.

Due to all of these things, I am now finding myself very interested to learn specifically about how and in what ways the concepts of neurodiversity, and specifically as it relates to “mental illnesses” such as bipolar disorder, correlate with your findings on synthetic happiness. Are people diagnosed with mental illness, such as I am, routinely less able to manufacture synthetic happiness than people who are not? If so, why, and in what ways?

I’ve spent a significant chunk of today searching the Internet for anything that might relate to the intersection of these two psychological and psychiatric disciplines, but have not turned much up. I would be greatly appreciative of any further information you might have on the topic, or pointers to where I might find such material. Either way, I’ll just keep looking anyways. :)

Thanks again for a marvelously inspiring and informative presentation.

Sincerely,
-Meitar Moscovitz
–
Professional homepage: http://meitarmoscovitz.com/
Personal homepage: http://maymay.net/

In less than two hours of being awake, I was crying in fits and starts on my bed again. I wanted to tire myself out again so I would go back to sleep. I just want to go away and hide.

I just took a little Happiness Formula test and the result I got is unsurprising:

Slightly below average in life satisfaction

People who score in this range usually have small but significant problems in several areas of their lives, or have many areas that are doing fine but one area that represents a substantial problem for them. If you have moved temporarily into this level of life satisfaction from a higher level because of some recent event, things will usually improve over time and satisfaction will generally move back up. On the other hand, if you are continually slightly dissatisfied with many areas of life, some changes might be in order. Sometimes we are simply expecting too much, and sometimes life changes are needed. […] Some people can gain motivation from a small level of dissatisfaction, but often dissatisfaction across a number of life domains is a distraction, and unpleasant as well.

For obvious reasons there’s been a lot of work done about trying to understand happiness. Everyone seems to have their own way about it, too. Something in this citation from my test result gave me a flashback.

When I was about 14 years old, I was a regular attendee of the Mood Disorders Support Group of New York (MDSGNY, for short). It was filled with people nearly twice my age, battling similar issues in much the same way that I was, with mood disorders ranging from mild depression to severe bipolar disorder and even frighteningly notable dissociative disorders. A common thread of advice that was given to us was that “people like us simply can’t expect to achieve the same accomplishments that people without these difficulties can.”

I found it insulting, and I was consistently questioning why that assumption was held so tightly with such a prevalent view. No one would ask why, or even seemed at all distressed by the fact. It was simply a matter of fact to most of the other attendees, and they seemed content with their resignation to accept it.

For a long time I’ve been struggling with understanding how other people seem so simply “predisposed to happiness” whereas I feel as though I am cursed by being “predisposed to sadness.” A short time ago, I wrote this:

In the search for answers people can come up with so many different rationalizations. It’s endless. The other day, I went to another party that I didn’t have a great time at through no fault of the very awesome hosts. This is becoming a trend I don’t like.

So, naturally, I instinctually come up with (endless) rationalizations to explain why. Every single thing I come up with is pure crap, of course, because it doesn’t really matter why I had a bad time since (surprise) it doesn’t change the fact that I had a bad time. No reason even has the potential to make me feel any better at all except for reasons that hinge solely on my own failings, because those are the only ones in which the situation was anything that “I could have done differently.”

Naturally (I have to imagine), thinking of my own failings makes me feel even worse. The net result is a cycle of thoughts that makes me feel bad and not good and in no way able to be happy about anything. And then I start to get quiet and go inside and want everything to stop.

This is such a typical thing. Everyone does it but from my vantage point it looks as though people react differently to such internal thoughts. I can’t see how they do that.

Most recently, it’s my relationship and social satisfaction that has seemed doomed to failure. I saw an interesting article on the BBC news web site about just such a thing: that researchers believe accepting sadness and resigning oneself to deal with the difficult times instead of believing in a fantasy where such sadness is simply gone, may in fact be one element of successful relationships. Another interesting quote from the article was this:

“The field of mental health perpetuates this myth with the very concept of “mental health,” which implies a state without suffering,” they say.

In other words, the very idea that sadness and difficulty is a sign of “mental illness,” judged only with the one-dimensional simplicity of the binaries of “mentally healthy” versus “mentally not healthy,” is worse than simply incorrect, but rather actively harmful.

In relationships, I have an unflinching confidence in myself to be able to “stick with it” through the bad times, but a persistent fear that my partner will never do the same. No other partner has proven themselves capable of this; each of them has high-tailed it and ran, and none want anything to do with me anymore.

It feels so circular.

A friend of mine recommended the blog of Penelope Trunk to me the other day. It was a wonderful recommendation. In one of her articles that I read, she says of the job hunt:

When it comes to career schemes, we simply do not have accurate imaginations about what life will be like for us in different situations, said Daniel Gilbert, professor of psychology at Harvard University, when I interviewed him. Our most accurate information about what will make us happy comes from snooping in on other peoples’ lives to see if they are happy. And the best way to watch other people is to be in a variety of offices. Gilbert calls the informal process of judging other peoples’ happiness “surrogation,” and he says, “surrogation is the best way to predict if we’ll be happy. Observe how happy people are in different situations.”

This seems incredibly applicable to other arenas, such as personal fulfillment as well as social satisfaction. I’m heartened to see that my hard work and continuous efforts mimic this approach, even if I’m clearly not happy most of the time yet.

So, I don’t know. What makes you happy?

I now understand the value of indirect communication. And it is immense.

I also understand why I never saw it before: the benefits are reaped solely through language’s social applications, not its analytical ones. See for yourself by watching the video.

An incredible interview with this Harvard professor is available on Google Video.

If

By Rudyard Kipling

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Bah. I want to crawl back into bed and stay there until Spring comes.

Am I asking too much? Why can’t I just go to parties and have a good time?

Today, I resolved to clean. It was not easy, but I succeeded a little bit. I cleaned the floor of my kitchen and the living room, removed clutter from the coffee and kitchen tables, washed the dishes, cleaned the stove, and even folded a few clothes.

This makes me feel at least a little better.

In my inbox I see a confirmation from Amazon.com informing me that my order of “What Color is Your Parachute?” a book recommended to me by Kate Bornstein, is on its way (as are How to Write a Book Proposal and When Someone You Love is Kinky).

One step at a time, right?