pinchy dot org.

Yesterday was my last day as a city planner. I spent eight years in the field—six as a professional, and two as a graduate student. That’s nearly a quarter of my life.

Yesterday, of course, was also the day that Steve Jobs died.

I left my job in part because of something Steve Jobs said in his famous 2005 commencement address at Stanford University:

You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.

Most of us will never be anything like Steve Jobs.1 But we can all try to make sure that we love what we do.

I’m trying. I haven’t figured everything out just yet. But I’m trying.

1. And it’s just as well. Can you imagine a world filled with nothing but Steve Jobses? What a nightmare. [↩]

At the gym this morning, I was silently bemoaning the execrable club music being piped in through the overhead speakers. But then I thought, wait, what do I expect them to be playing instead? Debussy? Help me out with this one, Internet.

As Jeff Williams awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found his apartment transformed in the night into a monstrous pile of boxes.

Every once in a while, I choose to make wise use of the time I have alone, and it reminds me just how valuable that time is. Time to one’s self is a rare gift, once that I squander all too often. I need to keep that in mind.

Every time I read something I wrote in the past, I feel as though I was smarter back then. What the hell is that about? Am I getting dumber as I age? Or is my inferiority complex just growing stronger by the day?

I suppose it could be both. Oh, dear.

A nice post from Merlin Mann on the problems with New Year’s resolutions, and a more sensible path to self-improvement. (Kindly ignore the Seinfeld references.)

Six bottles of champagne, two bowls of punch, five dips, one tub of peppermint bark, four other munchables, fifteen happy guests, and one rowdy midnight gathering in Duboce Park. What a lovely way to start the new year.1

Here’s to a happy, healthy, prosperous 2011 for all of us.

1. Apologies to those of you who weren’t invited! My girlfriend and I started by inviting her friends, and that alone was more RSVPs than we bargained for. [↩]

I am currently going nuts because I can’t figure out how to make WordPress say “Nine comments” (for example) instead of “9 comments.” You’re probably thinking something like “who cares,” but goddammit, I want my weblog to use proper English, not this “4 comments” nonsense! What’s become of this country, the debasing of the English language, anarchy in our schools, etc., etc.

All of which is apparently my way of saying “Merry Christmas.”

Today I paid my first visit to the gym in about, oh, four years. People: What was I thinking? What kept me away for so long? I love going to the gym! And I hope you all remind me that I said this in writing, on the Internet, if I start to get lazy about it.

My main fitness goal is to lose 70 pounds. Okay, I’m kidding. Eighty pounds.

Two reviews: one of a play, one of a product.

Uncle Vanya, California Shakespeare Theater
I saw the outdoor matinee on a sunny Saturday afternoon. My right eye thoroughly enjoyed it. My left eye was largely, shall we say, indisposed.

Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Dry-Touch Sunblock, SPF 55
This sunblock provides broad-spectrum protection against ultraviolet rays, and it goes on dry, without any greasy residue. However, the package’s warning to “avoid contact with eyes” should be printed in much larger type. Alternatively, each tube should be packaged with a sharp fork, so that any unfortunates who get this sunblock in their eye can give expression to their physical anguish by gouging out the burning, severely reddened organ.