Notes to My Near Future Self

 Ok, Jim, calm down.  It 's all good and you knew it.  

Some thoughts for when you get to Miri and are stunned, beaten down, and just really wobbly in every way by the yin and yang that is the exhaustion and excitement of travel.  Raised to 4 dimensions, dropped to 1 degree of latitude, and without the bullshit of DST.  You're gonna forget you thought this...so to future me...


No, you are not as handsome as Michael Keaton.  No matter what the FA/Customs Agent/Receptionist/Police Offer/Random Fool said.

Jim, dear, ... yes, you are an idea man.  Crazy fucking idea man. 
(The modifiers are neither dangling nor misplaced.  Just deliberately ambiguous.)
  

He had more hair that one day than you have had in all yours combined.  Put your hat back on. 

• Chill, my friend, chill.
  
  
• Samuel L. Jackson is not coming through the door.  He stopped in KL for a Ramly Burger - knowing that a Quarter Royale would be good, but better in Hanoi.  Man knows his burgers.
  
  That was next to a char kuey cheo stall.  That was cool too.  Things went sideways when he saw a sate stand and started screaming about "Snakes on a spit!  Motherfuckin' snakes on motherfuckin sticks! MMMMMM.......delicious motherfucking snnnnmmmmmmmmm, MAN!" 
  
  He was last seen run upwind towards a claypot chicken vendor.  Screams of "Napkins, more motherfuckin' napkins, MAN!!!" heard as he ran up the River Klang.*   
  
  
• Nope, Uma Thurman aint coming either.  She never was.  It's OK.You're not here for that.  If the time comes when you are or there for that...give it a second and make sure you know damn well sure where "here" and "there" are.    Any confusion?  Chill my friend, Chill.  
  
  
• This trip is different. The last trip was about uncertainty and and making the hard decision.  Done.  Yep.  Done right.  Yup.  OK, be proud of that.  So, be proud of it.
  
  
• The worst that happens here is that you are sub-optimally happy.  Not sub-zero.  Not low.  Sub-optimality is a matter of both accuracy and precision.  You're close enough on both.  The 1st derivative is working fine.  And, the lessons of marginal behaviors near optimality are well known to you.  Gretzky was wrong because he assumed greens were meant to be 1 putt.  Optimize over the two putts you're given; seize the birdie when you can but they give you two puts for a reason.  Use that resource.
  
  
• Gretzky was right about "go where the puck will be."  You did that.  Now, go find some wind.  You claim to be able to see it.  You're in a great place to do so.  Get your kindle, hat, and whatever else you need.  Go watch the fishing fleet come or go.  Go watch the crabs and the shorebirds.  Go to sleep.  You're good, just accept it and happily move on to where the pucks gonna be soon. See that ripple over there???
  
  
• You can never go wrong with pork.  You can never go wrong with nasi lemak.  You are in Miri (probably if you ever reread this) because you saw a video about nasi lemak with crispy pork.  Go get some mutherfuckin nasi lemak with crispy pork.  Or, Laksa Sarawak hold the prawns add double fried lard.  (Yes, that is my laksa paradigm, I just don't like prawns and if you don't at least understand fried lard you should ask yourself why you continue to read my dreck here.)  Go on, git off yer ass and go fatten it up.  Go on now!  Git!!!   Git Cracklins!!!
  
  
• Come back soon and write more.  You're gonna need it.
  
  
• Update 1a.  It's a former British colony where Canadians working for a Dutch company found oil a century ago...surely, even a one-eyed pig like you can find a place with a good Gin collection.  Ice is a co-requisite; vermouth is an upgrade; 2 is a hard fucking limit.  Period.  You get tight, you get stupid.  You get stupid and you get hungover.  Do not get hungover. 
  
  Making a hangover the best possible outcome is just poor planning and worse execution.  Fun today, fun tomorrow,...makes for a lot of great yesterdays.
  
  
• Update 1b.  McGee would like where you are very much.  And gin would not be the only reason why.  Go introduce yourself where you said you would.  Because he would.  And Bosch would just grouse to get off your ass and get on the street.  So...
  
  
• Update 1c.  God, you're an over-wrought, melodramatic, neurotic, prolix, pedantic, semantic, dogmatic,(auto)didactic, and very verbose fool.  Just chill dude.  You're a fool in your own fool's paradise.  Of your own accord, work, and decisions.  Over a very long time.  So just enjoy the flow.  The way you enjoy flowing.  You know, sing it all out loud to the lyrics of the Jeopardy Winning Song: "Fella's Paradise" by "Coldio"
  
  
• Update 2 (04mar25) - Start cleaning and packing, fool.
  
  
  
• TBA
• TBC
• N/A
• NULL
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Wryly and with love,
  
  Yourself
  22Feb25

Really, go ahead and torch Gangsta's Paradise.  It'll loosen your tight ass up, buddy.

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*Strangely apocalyptic.  Future Me, if you meet a dude named Marlowe be careful.  Mr. Kurtz, he cool.  You're at the stage in life when you've come to peace with your craziness.  Kindred spirits, curiosity, bullshit silliness, whatever it is that draws you together -- find your tribe.  Just be chill doing it.  Campfire Rule, Golden Rule, you preach it so live it.