That moment when you realize you don’t know what to do… first.

Not that there aren’t things to do, in fact, that is part of the problem: I have so many things I can do that I don’t know where to start. I have approximately 3 weeks to be productive and make something happen. Something complete, a task, a project, an art. Ideally, it could make me some money, or at least prepare me for an opportunity to make some.

One idea I have is to make a website for a certain tourist destination with no centralized, unbiased source of information. Nothing fancy or Web 2.0 for that matter. In fact, I’ve even debated using flat HTML pages to host the information. Of course, I would use git, Capistrano (Do people still use this or am I out of the loop?), a rake task to build the site out of some templates (I blame Martin Fowler for this idea), and the pages themselves will be ripe with CSS tricks and JS libraries, but I’ll hold off on the server-generated pages and database for now. The cool part about this project will be the social engineering and sneaker net research & advertising that will make it churn. I just hope I don’t make any enemies in the process! Coincidently, 37signals recently released a free PDF of their eBook Getting Real which I will definitely read within the next few days.

My other idea was to spend these weeks putting some serious work into my book. Yes, I started writing excerpts of a short suspense novel about man who travels to Ecuador to learn about his father’s past, only to come face-to-face with his ghost. It’s a crazy story filled with tales I’ve heard though out Ecuador about old family resentments, the supernatural, and lunacy of the type people just can’t make up. The phrase “truth is stranger than fiction” definitely applies here, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez has inspired me to make it sound real.

Besides these two major options I also have a host of small but time-consuming tasks. I recently received a pull request from Rails hacker tenderlove to update ruby-serialport with Ruby 2.0 support, among other fixes. There were some other minor pull requests as well. I also need to create a new personal website, as I ditched the original for a WordPress site, and then axed that. Something small, but my idea will require some custom JS for all those browsers not yet supporting the CSS3 capabilities I’ve been waiting years for. I hope to make it look as cool as I’m imagining it.

I go ahead I’ll merge those pull requests first. People have been waiting for a new ruby-serialport gem for almost a year now! HGPA

When JCVD is not starring in movies about himself he comissions murals of his likeness.

“And on that beach in Manabí, under lavender skies, I made peace with my life. It has its problems, but everyone has problems. Some were just born at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Others victims of great tragedy, and yet, despite problems of my own making, life has been good to me, I simply failed to see it that way. Everyone has a cross, and my curse was mine to carry. Instead of resentment I just had to accept something that no one, of this world or the next, could cure, but that an honest surrender would resolve. I could finally see the photo of my life, and although part of the puzzle will always be missing, I still had enough pieces to see an art, wonderful in its incompleteness.

But when I returned to Quito I quickly forgot everything, and the ghost of Victor returned.”

Photo: Sunset in Ligüiquí, Manabí, Ecuador - April 21, 2012

Seeing this the first time hurt me. Seeing this photograph, and noticing details I initially looked over, like his scars, the lock, and the fact that he can’t possibly reach his bowl, hurts me more. ANIMAL ABUSE IS WRONG. HGPA

Yes… I think the hyphen was to avoid lawsuits from certain lawyers based in Chatsworth, CA.

Yes, even bus drivers in the Portoviejo, Ecuador have WoW guilds!

p, td { line-height: 1.3; } p { padding-bottom: 1em; } a { color:; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; } a:hover { color:; text-decoration: underline; } a:active { color:; text-decoration: underline; } From Evernote: An Evernote to Tumblr Test A simple test of Evernote to Tumblr Since a plugin doesn’t exist, we must use the email to and from features of Evernote and Tumblr, respectfully. HGPA

[EDIT: This absolutely sucks!]

And he said “I have to go” as he got up and ran, running endlessly from the mistakes of his past, mistakes that followed him everywhere. HGPA

What I Learned About Life By Trying to Cook Chile Relleno

(Dedicated to my mother)

It was one of my great ideas with the usual poor execution. My cousin uncle had recently acquired a bag full of red and yellow bell peppers, way too many to justify a simple salad. As he left with his wife downtown, he insisted I stay at his home and eat whatever was available for lunch. A delightful chicken soup lay resting on the kitchen stove while his two teenage daughters were busy doing whatever girls do. In the spirit of Ecuadorean dining, lunch in particular, I decided to make the segundo, or second plate that follows the soup. Fajitas were an obvious choice, but there were no tortillas, and I was feeling confident…

I’ve seen my mother make chile relleno over a dozen times throughout my lifetime. Sometimes hot, always delicious. Undeterred by the possibility of creating a culinary abomination I began to work to the best of my ability and memory. What did I have to do? Well, I cut one open, and stuffed it with farmer’s cheese, dipped it in some egg batter, flopped it around in some flour, and threw it in hot oil to fry. Tada?

I forgot to take a picture of the result: the type of monstrosity that sometimes haunts Tom Colicchio in his sleep, though I would argue it looked better than that vegan fiasco he was served some seasons ago. It actually tasted good, but I believe I owe that to the pepper’s natural talents. Otherwise, it was crisp and watery, and the egg was an inconsistent mess. It was at that moment that I vividly recalled the sharp smell that would fill my home. “$%&! I forgot to roast the peppers!” I also remembered the eggs being fluffy. Fail.

I felt I deserved another shot at pulling off this dish. I decided to call my mother (Thanks Google Voice.) We had not spoken for a few weeks over the phone, so she was ecstatic to hear me and was more than happy to tell me exactly what I needed to do. I first had to roast the peppers evenly until they blistered, and then enclose them in a container to allow them to sweat, thereby releasing excess moisture. The egg whites, and only the whites, had to be beaten to resemble static snow that wouldn’t fall with an upside turn of the bowl. Only then could I reintroduce some of the yolk. And don’t forget to clean out the inside of the pepper. I was now ready, or so I thought.

Let me tell you, chile relleno is not an easy dish. Not for those that don’t cook regularly at least, and without instructions nonetheless. Roasting took too long because the flame was too low. They were actually under cooked, but I didn’t understand this until the end. Peeling and emptying the peppers was a dirty mess that wildly surpassed any time estimate. A shortage of cheese prompted the creation of recipe-violating emergency filling, shredded chicken, which the girls reluctantly helped with. Time boiled away.

Despite verbal instructions from my mother, the ultimate failure was only recognized at the most critical moment: I beat the eggs ahead of time. It was here where my lack of cooking experience left me naked. The gastronomic clock had hit midnight for the magical fluff, and it had already begun to turn back into simple beaters. I could not salvage it with the included yolk. Only two yellow peppers got a decent coat. The others were easily identified as the tectonic plates of egg moved along the dominant red ocean of a pepper planet.

I was ready to fry when my cousin uncle returned. His wife was quick to express her displeasure. She asked me why I didn’t eat the soup, and why her daughters hadn’t either. My upper back was hurting from the strange angle I kept for hours, and I was already frustrated with losing the entire day over this experiment, so I kept my answer short: “I don’t know.” Of course, what I really wanted to say was “Beats the hell out of me why your daughters didn’t eat. They were watching TV the entire time. Can you stop bitching and give me a hand here?” It was perturbing trying to make something for everyone and being reproved for it. Of course, the interaction caused me to lose focus and observe the complete theater of action. No wonder she was pissed - the entire kitchen looked like the aftermath of a terrorist attack. I think I used every plate in the house for some step of the process. There was flour everywhere, decorated with unwanted pepper waste, egg, cheese, and chicken, along with the remains of garlic and onion that went in it. Oil was splattered randomly from a previous test run that taught me that it was too hot. Oh, and this motley ensemble somehow made it on the floor as well. It was painfully clear I had to clean it all up.

The moment of truth wasn’t pretty either. My cousin uncle, who cooks for a living, was the first to bite into the Frankenstein I called a chile relleno. His face defined a dictionary’s entry for “mediocrity”. “It’s good” he said, but I’m no fool. He wouldn’t have paid a nickel for it. I brought shame to the name Alvarez and did my mother no justice. This, along with the clean up that awaited me brought upon a great sadness that was clearly visible to him. Despite his contrary offer, I insisted I clean up. After I took three creations to my great uncle’s wife and my other second cousins I returned to the house and took the next hour to wash all the dishes and counter tops. I confirmed the wife’s initial unvoiced complaint when she later thanked me for cleaning her kitchen.

The mindless work of washing china allowed me to meditate on the situation and come to peace with what happened. I learned valuable tidbits…

1. Roast the peppers until they are absolutely blistered in a way that would make an EMT coil. Don’t use oil on the pan or skillet, you want them to burn a little.
2. Beat the egg whites at the very end, when the filled and floured bell peppers are ready to go.
3. Cooking is both an art and a science. Respect it.
4. Always clean up the mess you make, no matter what.
5. Not everybody will appreciate you. Do it anyway for those who do. My great uncle’s wife and one of my second cousins loved them.

… but the most powerful lesson was realizing how talented my mother is. This was hard work, a full-time job that she does in a fraction of the time. We never know how difficult someone has it until we walk in their shoes, and I only did it for an afternoon. My mother has dedicated her life to my family, but it’s only now that I’m away from her, on my own in a foreign country, that I’m starting to understand this, and the fact that I’ve lost so many opportunities to learn and be with her.

I love you mom. Someday, we’ll cook chile rellenos together. I promise. HGPA

Originally posted on Google+ on December 12, 2011.

Photo: Blistering the peppers at Luigy’s in Carapungo, Quito, Ecuador - December 11, 2011. HGPA