Amazing.

What I would do, seeing as it’s going on 3 months on the market and its price was dropped Feb 22 (-65K), more than a month ago, is submit an offer at the avg sq footage price for that area ($691/sq ft) which would be $980,000. I would consider the reason it hasn’t sold yet is that it’s in  building where the HOA is $745 and parking is $100, meaning someone who puts down 30% is already looking at a $4000+ mortgage, and close to $900 in monthly fees that will only increase over time. Meaning that if you were to buy this place and sell it in the next 5-10 years, you’re likely looking at trying to pass on a property with monthly fees outside of mortgage, insurance and tax at well in the thousands. High built-in living expense is a tough sell.

Rent for a shared 2bd/2bth on the 5th floor overlooking the courtyard in the same building is $1150. This unit is 5 floors up near the top with sweeping views, meaning rent for that unit will be higher. If offer is excepted (if the owner is anything less than desperate, he won’t but nothing messes with people’s head like a Mercury Retrograde for making bad decisions), I would start looking for a roommate before the close of escrow. Rent would go towards HOA, etc, and to pay for the mortgage, I have positive income from my LA home to apply to this mortgage, or I could always take out a line of equity against my home in LA to put down a larger down payment.

But the most important would be that I’m backing myself in the corner, forcing me to work very, very hard to earn money. I’m at my most fierce from the corner, where you either claw your way out or die trying. I’ll risk losing some of my humanity. War is ugly. But I gave myself 3 years for this. And he happens to be 3 years away. So why not?

“Oh no…oh no…he pissed himself.”

Today was my 3rd day of trying to get up at a reasonable hour (aka morning). The last couple of days, my alarm goes off at 8:45 and again at 9:30, but I keep hitting the snooze button until well past 10 until I turn it off all together to get up closer to noon. Last night, I woke up every 2 hours thinking it was morning, and finally got out of bed just past 7. It was incredible! So this is what morning looks like!

I went to the gym and was really sluggish, but I shot around for half an hour (am hitting about 80% from just outside the key), and started Frankenstein while on the elliptical for 45 minutes.

I went downstairs to do some weights (I’m cleared for 5 lb bicep curls) when I ran into this guy I haven’t seen since last fall. He’s got curly hair and big blue eyes, kinda looks like that guy on Bones. He’s a massage therapist and he always looks at me like he’s watching the sun rise inside me. I don’t know how to explain it–kind of a senseless awe. He’d offered to show me around the last time I saw him, and I’d made some non-committal noises. This time, I saw him and his face lit up. I said hi, then beelined to the other side of the gym but he followed me over and was talking to me about how he hasn’t seen me around in a while. I told him I’d had surgery on my shoulder. I felt like a little kid, hopping from foot to foot, talking really fast, swinging my water bottle nervously, scared that he was going to ask me out again. I ended the conversation with something like, “I’ll be back on the court next month so I’ll see you then.” I went and did some lower back exercises but I noticed he was sticking close and watching me in the mirror, so I moved to do bicep curls, and he moved nearby to do shoulder presses. My instincts told me he was working up the nerve to say something, and my instincts said, “Oh shit.” So I only did one set, purposely ending while he was in the middle of his, then said, “Have a nice day!” taking a few steps towards the hallway leading to the locker room. “Oh,uh, what?” he said, stopping. “Have a nice day!” I said, inching a few more steps away.

“Oh yeah, you too. Hey, um, uh–”

“Bye!”

He was still kind of talking as I twirled and hurried off. I got my stuff together fast and took off before he could decide to stake out the locker room or something.

Sometimes I think I’m kind of a jerk. Do I use my shy awkwardness as a cover for my utter standoffishness? Once upon a time, I used to think, what’s the harm? You get to spend time and get to know someone new, and even if you’re not interested romantically, you make a new friend. But then I remember how terribly awkward I am at extricating myself from situations, especially when I worry about hurting someone’s feelings, and I think you know what? Fuck it. Why walk into something when you’re already planning ways to get out of it. It’s better to not get into it in the first place.

Sometimes I feel like I need a little soul…
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This song was playing while I was on electro-stim and it started snowing outside, despite it being fairly warm. It made me feel like I was out of time and space, but like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I’m going to be picking up some secrets. About what and keeping from whom…TBD
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Even when you know it all, you won’t know everything.
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“You look like someone with a happy secret!”

Haha, it’s one of those days where I’m just happy. But if anyone knows what that secret is, I welcome them to tell me.
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A mind that launched a thousand ships.
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People say that your dreams
are the only things that save ya.
Come on baby in our dreams,
we can live on misbehavior.

i am every time you close our eyes…

It’s a beautiful day outside. It even snowed for a few minutes. Now the sun’s out like it’s summer.

Heroes are just as much trying to throw themselves into the thick of things and obliterate themselves. They just try to make themselves useful while they do it.

I’ve been doing physical therapy and my arm is getting stronger. It’s not really about how hard they’re working it, but about letting my body know what’s safe to do. I was in the gym yesterday, taking left-handed shots and layups. I attempted a right-handed shot and it was stiff and fell well short. I can’t get full extension while bearing weight yet. Then I wondered if it wasn’t so much a mechanical issue that would require time, but a strength one, which requires persistence. So I shot the ball in the air for a while, to build up some heat and fight through that wall. I started realizing what I can do. I started taking shots again. All of my shots were falling short but rotation was good and they were right on the front of the rim. I kept shooting and I knew it wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when. When that first one fell in, I looked around the empty gym, wishing there had been someone to hug.

The last couple of weeks, the hardest thing about PT is the stretching. I’ve told her to punch me and knock me out if she has to. I’m guarding the hell out of it, and it’s really hard to get my body to relax. And I’m also ticklish. Last week she had to jam her thumb into a pressure point in my armpit and I giggled myself into tears. “You do not want to give up that arm,” she said.

On Monday, it was the same battle. I told her that next time, I’m gonna drop by the bar across the street and have 6 tequila shots before I come in. It’ll be like a Mexican surgery. I’ll be easy to work with, but flammable. The talk turned to tequila, drinking, Percocet, weed, coke, meth, with other people in the room joining in. I loved it when the guy wearing shorts and the top half of a business suit chimed in, “Weed is like wine. They’re so many different types.” I would have given him a fist bump if my PT didn’t have my arm in a lockhold. I love it when a room around me colors a little outside the lines and doesn’t even notice.

So I made a commitment. Next appointment, I would see what would happen when I went in with some tincture in me. If I would be able to focus and relax.

I was supposed to get up early today, but couldn’t. Snoozed for an hour and a half before turning it off completely, then got up at 11:30. Was downstairs heading towards PT before I realized I’d forgotten to drink the tincture. So I went back up. Was working with another girl today. First exercise was the hand bike, and I went really hard and fast because I needed to speed my metabolism up to get it into my system. I didn’t think it’d kicked in time, but the strange thing is I always know a magnetic zone by the music. I Could Hold You in My Arms by Ray LaMontagne came on and I felt a little part of my brain crinkle with happiness. That song was recently my mood and I’d spent a while listening to it. Good music, I said to the girl, and she told me how much she liked this song. I recommended Amos Lee.

So it was the new girl who was stretching me. As I got on the table, she said that when Erin, my usual PT, had said that I’m ticklish, she remembered the day I was giggling so she knew right away who I was. I told her that I’d made a commitment to relaxing during the stretch. So she worked my arm, and we talked about music. She commented that I’m doing really well with the stretch today. I closed my eyes and thought about missile silos, dark underground caves holding secrets to be explored. I realized that every time she pressed in and my body spiked in vigilance, instead of fighting the pain, I would melt into it, thus allowing it to dissolve. I think the girl was really amazed. She got my arm to go full range. I’m proud because when I allow it, I’m surprisingly flexible. She commented again that I’m doing a really good job of going to my happy place, and I laughed. Told her about how I had basically trained for this day, found a place to store my mind so I could let her do her job while I thought about something else. Digging deeper.

I was putting on my coat when Erin came in. The girl told her I’d done really well with the stretch.

“I told you,” I said. “I was going to come in today and make it happen.”

She laughed. “So what are you on? Alcohol or drugs?”

“What?” I looked offended. “I trained for this. I had to pull my mental focus. Thinking about missile silos and space to explore to concentrate on a different plane.”

“Oh wow.” She looked genuinely impressed. “Hey, I’m sorry for asking if you were on something,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. Broke out in a sly grin. “I’ll tell you next week.”

The room cracked up. I was up front booking my appointment. In the other room, “I told you she’s hilarious,” Erin said. That made me happy.

let’s make no bones about it. on february 29, 2008, i pledged my allegiance to dark. i’ve been down in the rabbit hole ever since.

Hmmm…there’s a unit one level down from the one we put an offer on. Same dimensions. My mom’s scouting for me since she knows what I need (light, space, balcony, security, location) but she tells me she doesn’t think the bedroom will be big enough for my bed (Cal King), and even with 2 bedrooms, the place won’t really be big enough for two roommates to co-exist. I know 2 bedroom/2 bath is supposed to be the minimum of good investment, but I think given the real estate in SF, a 1 bedroom loft with a good layout in a solid location would be just as good of an investment. If a room can’t even fit a larger bed, it’s a pretty small room. I would almost rather have a 1 bedroom with better use of space. Cramped quarters = cramped thinking/cramped feeling. Right now, even though I’m living in a studio that’s very small, because of its layout and its large balcony, it doesn’t feel cramped. That makes a big difference in psychological and emotional well-being. Especially with someone like me, who ties particular meaning to the idea of home and haven. If my home isn’t a place I can feel absolutely comfortable and safe retreating to, I end up feeling stuck between worlds with no dominion over self and reality.

Last night I dreamed I kissed someone, but I can’t remember who it was! At the very least, I know it was a guy.

I wish…

Food porn.

I’m a lavender junkie. There’s a theory that I moved to Seattle because it’s the only city where lavender ice cream is readily available. When I was driving to La Push last week, I drove through this area known for lavender farms. They have an annual festival in July, when the lavender is in bloom. I don’t know if I’ll still be in Seattle in July, but I would definitely be up for a trip to the festival, especially when a woman in a store devoted to lavender told me the farms all offer lavender-themed foods during the festival, including various versions of lavender ice cream. Various versions??? I’d never felt so girly. I messaged Rie and she’s up for taking a trip to the festival in July. It would probably only be a day trip, but we would be able to hang out in Seattle the rest of the time.

Last year, when Rie and Eric were still living in a house in Lodi, Eric had grown some lavender in his garden and said there was so much they didn’t know what to do with it. I asked them if I could have some because I wanted to experiment with making lavender ice cream, but I never went to pick any up before they moved. I would love to get some ideas. In the meantime, when I get back to California and can work out of a more equipped kitchen, I want to make lavender-lemon cupcakes.

Missile Silo Research Synopsis

In the 1960’s, the US government constructed the largest and most complex weapon system to date for the purpose of intercontinental missile defense. The project, the WS-107A-2, also called the Titan I Weapon System for development surrounding the Titan I missile, involved over 2200 defense and civil contractors, and employed thousands of people to maintain. Concurrently, the government developed a second weapons system, the Atlas ICBM (intercontinental ballistic missile), for the Atlas series of missiles, to allow for a backup system should one system fail.

Located in various key and strategic areas around the US (ie Washington, California, South Dakota, Idaho, and Colorado), the missile complexes, or missile silos, were practically underground cities, built to support crew and operations necessary to provide a pre-emptive or retaliatory strike in the face of a nuclear war.

It was with the fourth version of the Atlas ICBM (Atlas-F) and the Titan I that the missiles were stored vertically in underground silos. With this basing system, weapons could not be launched from within the silo; they had to be fueled in the silo then raised for the surface for launch. Later, with the introduction of the Soviet UR-100 and the Titan II missiles series, fuel was stored within the missiles allowing them to be launched from the silos.

Launch Facility (LF) configurations varied by missile system, with the Titan II’s based in a launch facility connected through tunnels to the launch control center (LCC). The launch control center was where the missile combat crew could monitor the complex, launch the missile or rest in the living quarters. They were underground structures constructed of reinforced concrete and steel sufficient to withstand a weapons attack. The Titan II launch control centers were housed in three-story domes. The first level contained the crew’s living quarters with kitchen, bathroom, bedroom. The second level contained the main launch console, as well as an alternate launch console and the control monitor group which monitored the missile. The lowest level contained the communications equipment, battery backups, motor generator and other key equipment. The more updated blast-proof Minuteman facilities were cylindrical shaped with hemispherical ends and walls approximately 4.5 ft thick, suspended like a pendulum by four shock isolators. A vertical access shaft led into a tunnel juncture, and the LCC could be accessed through a blast door. In the event of an attack that damaged the vertical shaft, a 3-ft in diameter escape hatch was built into the far end of the LCC leading to an escape tunnel.

The missile combat crews were supplied by the US Air Force, and Strategic Air Command mandated a “two-man rule” designed to prevent accidental or malicious launch of weapons by a single individual. In the Titan II system, the LCC generally had four crew members—the Missile Combat Crew Commander (MCCC), the Deputy Missile Combat Crew Commander (DMCCC), the Ballistic Missile Analyst Technician (BMAT), and the Missile Facilities Technician (MFT).

In the case of the Minuteman missile, the only currently ICBM active in the US, several things must be in place in order to launch the missiles. First, the missile must be at full alert status, with no safing devices installed, have a correctly programmed computer, and the on board launch code verification devices must be correctly coded. Any one of several commands, from any of the networked launch control centers in the same squadron of 50 missiles, can change one of these factors, and make a launch impossible. The President, or his surviving replacement, must release the launch codes, also known as the Universal Unlock Code. They must then be transmitted by the NCA in an Emergency War Order (EWO) message, and authenticated by the launch crews. Both operators must agree that the launch order is valid by comparing the authorization code in the launch order against the code from the Sealed Authenticator, contained in a sealed envelope stored in a safe with two separate locks positioned in such a way that no single crew member can simultaneously turn the keys and open the safe alone.

Once authenticated, these codes must be manually entered into the proper devices at the LCC by the crew, and then they each must insert a key into a sealed switch unit, and turn the keys simultaneously to transmit a “launch vote”. For additional protection, the missile crew in another launch control center in the missile network must carry out the same authorization procedure and send out launch votes in order for the missiles to be launched. There is also a procedure for the “Single Survivor” situation in the event only one control center is available, though other conditions must be fulfilled for a successful launch. And again, any of the other LCC’s could stop the launch. For a conspiracy to take over control of a Minuteman launch, it would require several people in key military and government positions, all working in a concerted effort.

Sources:

http://www.chromehooves.net/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Launch_control_center_%28ICBM%29
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missile_silo
http://www.afmissileers.org/