jeffrey + upstairsloft

It felt like the corner store closed. It felt like when they stopped playing Fresh Prince on Nick at Nite and replaced it with The Nanny. I thought Operation: Leave Facebook would feel like wart removal. Instead, it felt awkward. Like, now what? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not addicted to Facebook. It’s not my crack. But strangely enough, here I am, a measly 13 hours later, back on Facebook—I appear to be like a crackhead denying his addiction, regardless of the white, powdery residue around his lips.

I can’t totally blame it on my weakness. I mean, Facebook is the Devil. No, really. It is. Just as I hit the “Deactivate Account” button, the Devil flashed a screen—reminding me of my emotional attachments. It almost worked. I still hit the “Deactivate Account” button. Alas! I was free. I rid myself of this filthy past-time of aimless meandering, reading stupid status updates, feeling offended when other friends receive 43 comments because she informed everybody that her foot itches.

*iPhone Mail Chime* sound

Thinking I was free, Facebook emailed me a friendly little message. Whatever. Time to pop in a movie and doze off.

I woke up this morning, feeling free. Too free. As ritual has it, I grabbed my phone, checked the time, checked email… scrolled to the page where my Facebook App used to be… Then it hit me. The image that the Devil flashed before me came rushing back to my memory. Jonathan, Dean, Kyle, Edgar and Lauren will miss me.

I felt distant from them. I was reminded of the good times we had. That image of me and Jun high-fiving with the Golden Gate Bridge in the backgrund just days before he moved to New York… Jon snapped that photo. Dean and Kyle’s pics from my wedding. Edgar and my dudes holding me up from the ground when Jun visited from New York. Me and Lauren cuddling with a gorgeous view of Golden Gate Bridge—another reminder that Facebook is one big channel in staying virtually connected with my friends across the way.

I logged back on to Facebook with my iPhone, and it was like I never left. It was like any other day of logging in. I was reconnected. My privacy for the taking. Hundreds of photos that went missing from my friends’ profiles—they’re back. It was that easy. Somewhere in Palo Alto, a Facebook employee is smiling at their statistical log of those who’ve Deactivated, Reactivated, Deactivated, and Reactivated. Damn you, Facebook, You hit me at my weak spot. You were like Don Cheadle’s character in that movie with Nicolas Cage—Family Man—showing me glimpses of a life without Facebook. Because I really did miss Jon, Dean, Kyle, Edgar and Lauren for the 13 hours I was not a Facebook member.

I was probably the 4th person in the world to sign up for Facebook. It was 2004; I was  admitted into Sac State and received an invite from my cousin, Dean. I signed up, learned more about Facebook and I thought—”Cool! A network to build from my new school.” Somewhere in between then and late 2007, Myspace was the world leader. Then I watched my list of friends populate like lemmings. I thought, “Cool! We’re connected in more ways than one.” Right?

With texting, multiple email accounts, phones, blogs and all that other social media stuff. Then the relevant became irrelevant. Status updates like “I’m cold;” garnered 25 comments while status updates with some real meaning just vanished into the void. So I am kicking it old school. Communicating through the world wide web via a blog. I noticed a pattern in what kind of status updates received the most responses. Needless to say, they were also the stupidest ones. Plus, my 3-year old nieces and nephews and sometimes newborn cousins would add me as a friend on Facebook. Ridic. They can’t type! It was a wildfire of social media that got out of hand. So I say with great pride, “such is the life,” a life without Facebook.

The bit where Steven Heller parallels design to be the circulatory system of the written word… well… genius.

An idea is the heart of every book; writing is its blood, and design its circulatory system. Design cannot be underestimated. A book that is merely composed according to a template, rather than with forethought and imagination, may be adequate for reading yet lacks the quality that makes savoring a book a complete experience. While a great text will conjure mental pictures, a great design—the marriage of type, typography and image—will give the reader added levels of perception that encourage cognition and appreciation. Even the most rudimentary design components—the texture of the paper, the kiss of a fine cut of type, the style of the running head or feet—are much more than aesthetic niceties. For this and other reasons the book must not only be appreciated, it must be revered.

» Read It Here

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Kate and I are living in our 2nd neighborhood in San Francisco. We love each of them for their very own reasons—which in fact are for the same reasons. The food. And despite running into people who try and shove it down mine and Kate’s throats that the Inner Sunset and the Inner Richmond are “out there,” I believe this to be the opposite. Fun fact. San Francisco is 7 sq miles; so “Out there” is irrelevant. It’s not like we live in Brisbane.

I digress.

The food. Yes. We live in pockets among pockets of delicious ethnic food. And our hood is quaint with the right amount of buzz. We, too, like residents in North Beach, The Haight, Nob Hill and in The Mission, hear the buses, the light rail, belligerent drunks, crackheads and car horns. Just not at 3:30am. And we’re blocks away from Golden Gate Park, a couple of miles away from the beach and more importantly we are steps away from our favorite grubbing spots.

Kate and I now have a place in our apartment to sit down and eat (and even face each other! Those who’ve visited us at our last apartment know about the box we lived in). So we’re cooking lots more and being pretty mindful of our dining budget. But that doesn’t mean we haven’t racked up a handful of places we love.

San Tung
The chicken wings! The black bean sauce noodles! The cherry fried pork!

Curry Village
Just across the street and 2 months since they’ve opened. But the saag paneer, chicken tandoori breast, bhuna chicken and fish curry are a few of our faves.

Nan King
The honey sesame chicken and hot pepper beef are awesome. And it’s tons more delicious than its greasier counterparts from other Chinese food joints.

Other faves include:
» Arizmendi Bakery
» Yumma’s
» Perilla
» Roxie’s Market & Deli (the sandwiches!)

All these places are within a 3-block radius. I’ll have to save 19th Ave/Irving for another blog. Aside from food, The Inner Sunset still has a bit of quirkiness and edge. The Academy of Sciences and the de Young Museum are footsteps away. The N-line still manages to bring in a few San Francisco eclectics. And there’s random cool things like (maybe you’ve heard of them) Craigslist. Oh! And we have a graphoanalyst. Yeah. I love the neighborhood.

I’m sure me and Kate would have gotten along just swell if we met each other as kids—on some Cory and Topanga shiz. Glad to see the wifey rocks the same ol’ jolliness that she had as a kid. From pudding cups to a Jack Daniels flask. Haha.

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A friend and former colleague of mine opened up his own photography practice and asked me to design his first set of business cards. The brief went something like this: “I want something simple and clean. Louis Vuitton status. Classic but refreshing. Elitist. Oh. And it has to leave an impact on the people I give it to, like WTF?!”

The cards are just that. Ridiculously thick with an elitist attitude. Very understated and it’s giving the recipient a lot of credit. The dash lines, which will probably go over most people’s head, allude to measurement—since photography is all about light measurement and composition. The composition of the card achieves equilibrium—in a dynamic way—which are key ingredients to what makes a great portrait.

» Calvin Ma Photo

This kid growed’d up and became my wife. She’s a weirdo.