A methodology of choice in movement patterns within the context of collecting recyclables.

A simple photo-aided workflow of how I « most effectively » "could" establish a search inquiry in to the trash cans around a formative establishment of a recycler's good fortune: a well-traveled and well-patronized gas station establishment, such as the Shell station at Olympic at Grand, in downtown Los Angeles. 

The gas station is placed at an impeccable location - right up the street from the Staples Center, where sporting and entertainment events are common. I'd commonly discover rich caches of discarded recyclables in the trash, for example. Sometimes food. On a couple of occasions, a patron of the gas station would offer me charity. A man, who called himself Baba, had chatted me up, one time. He told me that I seemed like a good person, as I dug through the trash at the gas station. He offered me some change. The Indian Subcontinent people can be endearing, at times, as this man was, in his persona about me. He related to me in a spiritually enlightened sense. 

Here, I had left the gas station, and I set out to do a full survey of the « recyclables » area, as I was intent on seeking out, and discovering - all the recyclables that I might find, and collect, on my outing, for the night. Perhaps I had an endeavor to pursue; a bill to pay, an aspiration for the coming morning, perhaps. 

The next block over is Olive, I believe. This slight locale features an up-and-coming corporate identity and persona establishment, with the Oakwood corporate housing complex seated next to a Starbucks. The height of developing adults' expression of self-esteem in the confidence of their burgeoning professionalism careers. Here, in this trash can, I'd typically discover nearly-to-wholly-eaten meal packaging, drinks from Starbucks, and hard Seltzer's, which are common recyclables to encounter in the trash, for the fact that drinking alcohol in public is illegal. Do the patrons of the trash can |slight| locality conscientiously disburse of their cans, after drinking them inside? [the car? ... perhaps?]. 

Maybe. I, as a recyclables collector, would hope so. On one hand, for my own benefit, but also to engender the notion that such recycling jaunts are a venture establishment of the overseers of the Grand-Central-|ing| of the schedule rotation of who the up-and-coming aspirational homeless ones are, of the recyclables-collecting sort. It's a semaphore development locality, in this neighborhood; somewhat bordering South Park, and just up the street, on this one, some eclectic and clichey small cottage establishments that made it out of the garage, or apartment complex - in to the relatively walking-distance-capable campus identity that a dedicated walker could suit, for the sake of establishing a local guides locality and persona marketing identity suitable for accommodating some leisure time, of the tech and lifestyle establishment afforded by the Google Maps and Contribute arms of the Google umbrella of companies and entities afforded by Google. Doing local guide "stuff" around town will definitely work the walking muscle, for the square mileage that DTLA is; although I say that it's all walking distance. I figure that I can check this trash can out, on some nights, and in the interim, establish some publishing merit towards a « perhaps » readership and participatory contingency of "people who talk to the Cloud Platform identities - the overseers and administrators of the City Quadrants: in a civic center where 1 or 2 streets "over" could be a completely different vibe, it's important to timely acknowledge and homestead the locale that one lives in, in a place like DTLA. I feel that the USC-large presence that's been establishing itself, through the Keck Medical Center, and the USC-labeled former AT&T highrise, is a demographic that's largely included in the Cloud Platform civic and governmental development prospectuses of the overseeing city controllers, whom a fond former acquaintance had related to me as a significantly impressive technological operation, behind the office doors, somewhere. 

Then, across the street, there's another trash can. This place, next to it, is a kitschy dive bar, or something. It's kind of a dog-poop trash can, but I checked it, on this night, and I was duly rewarded, for my efforts, even in spite of the fact that it's typically a dump and poop trash can. 

There's four trash cans at this intersection. One on each corner. The one at the corner outside this [seeming] city administrative building is largely likely the same story as the last trash can, as far as poop goes. I checked it, and I believe that I found some more riches of recyclables here. 

This is the last trash can, seen for the conquering of the intersection, by the recycling bum, [also a mobility-lifestyle techie-trekker]. This trash can had some wealth of some discarded stuff in it, for sure. 

The point is, is that, in Grand-Central-|ing| the semaphore of the slight locale, here; somewhat subdued, within the context of the recycling bum persona; yet rich, behind the scenes, of the stories of the people who patronize the trash cans of the intersection here - which is a fortunate one to « hotspot » for recycling's sake, in that it's conceivably trying and difficult to search out every trash can of all of DTLA for recyclables, yet it's a reasonably good jump off point of an outset and basis of a recycling bum identity, which reaps the rewards as such, miniscule in fiduciary scale ad it might be - it endows the partaker in a more rugged and well-heeled, more sustainable and pervasive identity of homesteading one's way in to appearing to be a valid local, which is an enviable pursuit to succeed in, in the high-threshold rental basis of the apartment lofts and condos of South Park, DTLA, as well as the furnished corporate housing establishment that is Oakwood (I believe that they are the primary corporate housing establishment, nationwide, last I heard). They do furnished and short-term leasing, on a more choicey budget scale than a well-situated budget, of establishing locale identity in a persona of young-life professionalism, as I'd formerly discovered, and lived out, as a renter of the Marina Del Rey Oakwood apartment complex branch of the company's several offerings throughout the greater Los Angeles area. 

Maid service, too. 

The point is that, in proper methodology, in data-scrumming; here, recyclables from the trash cans, context, basis, intent, and Grand Central semaphore development contingencies, such as seen in more refined establishments, such as cloud computing, are portrayed, in the scope of the trash cans, for the recyclables - for what it's worth, the seeker who goes the distance: here, it's only four corners of an intersection - gets the rewards, at least sometimes. 

In executive and administrative functioning, it's important to viably monetize every moment and movement about and around completing a task. The developers of civic establishment and zoning do the ground work, and corporate enterprise provides the visionary paths through which people live out the meaningful pursuit and outlook of their lives, meanwhile also having the potential to affect others within the locale. 

Neglecting suitable and viable monetizable facets of an archetypal city quadrant, or data set, of a subject-contingency, is sure to suit all of the unlikable facets of neglect, in the first place. 

The recyclables aren't going to collect themselves, after all. 

Contributing user analytics to improve web browsing experiences through engaging with advertisers and developers.

Maybe you've noticed it, here and there, at some point, in the past: while browsing the web, a strangely relevant facet of your recent life and goings-on, in the world, are suddenly brought back in to your forefront through an ad banner, from out of the periphery of pursuing web-browsing stuff. 

I've been there. I'd believe that many people could relate. Perhaps, at some point, the accuracy of the advertisement that caught your attention was too much to bear, and you switched your account and advertising opt-in settings for advertisement content and context, and you shut them all off, in a slight panic. 

While the intricacies of just how these things play out, in the world of advertising agencies, and development, I'd say that a more rational perspective is that we live in a world, where engaging with the retail sector has been one of our favored pasttimes, at least, on some occasions. It stands to consider that the retailers appreciate our patronage of their operation, and, like many self-starting entrepreneurs, we'd established some slight nuances of connectivity, just slightly more up, on the threshold of friendliness, as opposed to professionalism, which is expected of retail operations. 

Nowadays, with so many businesses still shuttered, from the public health crisis still abound, it makes me wonder what caused them to perhaps fail, permanently, or what's holding them together, for such a long stretch of the imagination. I had always lived a month-to-month sort of lifestyle, in my entrepeurial endeavors. 

Now, with that I feed the birds, on such a regular basis, keeping in mind that the pigeon is the "homeless person's pet," or so, it goes, I have a keepsake token of opportunity to say that I could see myself doing what I'm doing now, far in to the future, and I'd still have my bird-feeding endeavors as a daily to-do, for my stability's sake, and that I'm doing something that returns fruits to my labors, given that little Mr. Sparrow, of the Grand Park area, has taken a fondness to me, undoubtedly for his family's sake, for recognizing that I'm the one who feeds him the sweet treats, most of the time. He just, earlier in the morning, actually once again visited me. I think he's hanging out on the cellular service delivery antenna. It's a serene little soiree of common fare, out here. Me and the birds. 

In a similar manner, our user identities and facets of our online behavior and habits must be similarly valuable to advertising agencies, who, in this day and age, of a hard sell, for advertisers, facing uncertain economic conditions and social cudtoms, themselves, now coming in to question; particularly in an area such that I live in; yet, with internet data service being patched through, and provided for us, even our autonomy of assuming that we're « somewhere, or other », being put to question. 

My service regularly reports that my location is in Chicago, Illinois, and Texas. I get news articles lobbed at me, from those locations, in many apps and feeds I visit. 

Somehow, though, the relevance of personal and identifying behavior, over time, had become a welcome feature of improving my esteem about my place, in the ecosphere, of the larger identity that my online life turns out to be, and of the richness of the interaction and engagement experiences have been, while observing, here and there, the blunders of people who "just don't care" to compose themselves well, of their outward appearance before others; oftentimes, perhaps - simply a matter of that they just don't realize how unsober they'd become. 

There's several things that are becoming of composure, yet - another facets of modern-day etiquette is that proper sociable consideration for others is typically met with improvements, in life, on many measures, whereas going back to a place of abuse, time and again,with no news as to otherwise, that had developed - is largely quite likely to yield such similar results of abuse, again, inevitably. 

All in all, much of the rough and tumble work of the intricacies of measuring and analyzing bulk swaths of data, had already been carried out, painstakingly, by the scientists and engineers who brought us the internet, and social media - for example, which markets itself towards our desire for rewards, in the form of fulfillment upon expectations. One of the headlines that I came across today, was the old adage - "a failure to plan, is a plan to fail," which becomes a strangely hinged magnet of contingency operators within the mesh of our lives, as various entities wish to market themselves to us, for the sake of fulfilling their own expectations. 

That being said, if you expect poor results, and yet, still maintain the relationship, that's simply a false attachment to courtesy, or for laziness' sake, yet, otherwise known as the Stockholm Syndrome, in psychology - where victims (hostages), rather, over time, tended to - in this historic study - begin to empathize with their captors. I'd say that it were a failing prospect to simply endeavor that there's not simply better people out there, than a person that treats you poorly. In this country (the United States of America), we are given the freedom to leave, while also having the burden of due process, in criminality, to suppose that people are not simply guilty,until proven innocent. 

Given that I hear voices, and many of them, at that, as a person largely of a socially isolated sort, it begs the question, of "should I be narcissistic and grandiose, as a shortcoming?" or believe that damaging the relationship that's establishing itself, from what's developed, out of an overbearing abundance of propriety, incloseness, being that I was made uncomfortable, and with some people, uncommunicative, obviously languishing behind, in the ever-boding ladder of sociable entrepreneurship, that affords itself to the time-honored classics of the bread-winner; the one who brings home the bacon. In this day and age, baser things, such as sexuality, gender, childhood traumas - all of these sorts of things, could potentially simply matter much less, in the perspective of myriads of enterprising endeavors being bestowed upon the one who might simply compose themselves up, as the better man, better woman, the patient child - the sociable little Mr. Sparrow, of the day, for example - these are all simply choices, to the mind's eye, yet when we become arbitrarily uncomfortable, it stands to reason that someone unfamiliar, or uncommon, or even more of an obscurity, in society - I mean, I'm on the bottom scale of sociable endeavors, to a limited perspective. Criminal pettiness attracts itself like the nuclear watershed attracts filth unto water on cloth, for example. It follows a natural pattern, rather than intelligent design, whereas intelligence is happening all the world over. 

Some people simply behave as if "the world is their oyster," yet many people simply fail to reciprocate the oyster, for it's plénitude in seafood gourmet - it is a strong and constant creature, with a closed mind, except as towards survival, as it knows, of life. 

On one hand, it's got an enterprising establishment about it's reputation, yet, in many circumstances, it's simply controversial to suggest so much of oysters, for eating. 

What's the point? 

Criminals generally take and steal from others, as some form of crime, whereas good people make offerings to others. Given one further, an intelligent design, of an iPigeon-made petitude would demand that the offering be ethically and morally sound, and sustainable. Going further up the ladder of the standards in psychology, the social and ecological benefit of the offering ought be good and fruitful, for the betterment of all, and beyond our own reach, as the winds and the waters expanse will flow and churn, unlike the nuclear watershed, which is still and tense, yet calm, over the broad expanse of noisy things, and frequency wavelengths, of disturbance. 

Now, establishing that some things are disturbing one's self could be simply just enough to establish that someone is a criminal, in pursuit of a victim, which it typically seems to be. 

It doesn't take much, for violence to become established, at least on some occasions, out of the fruitulness of having established a good reputation for a sociable endeavor, as the anomaly to the norm. 

Out here, there's several debacles, not only of such, but also of time - the passing of which, is a strange thing to leave, unobserved, or abandoned. I live in the Pacific Daylight Savings Time locality, as a prospective Maps and Timezones Cloud Platform Applications studies and development inquiries enthusiast. Those sorts of things are the types of things that seem to catch my attentions, lately. I simply wonder at what the possibilities are, and then I set out, and endeavor to live out my standard day, to the best of my capability. 

In general, I'd say that our leaders are best spoken for, when it's established that there's been some nuance of professionalism upon persona that's been established, somehow - of what could possibly be surmised about a person, based on what's offered. Sometimes, it takes a lot of words to establish a suitable particular position, in things, whereas some things, in leadership roles, just seem to be compelling, whereas true leaders train the most, in several manifest facets of the word - in and of themselves, and for others, the same, or less. But for someone who asks too much of what's reasonably accommodable of themselves, it's difficult, on the lower levels of achievement-capability, to truly appreciate much. 

Now, ... Even "now," though. It's a completely different topic, from person, to person, except that many people simply establish the standards of a day, as the day goes by, and as far as days go, and come again. 

I felt like, if I hadn't established some notions of that people had somehow ruined their reputations, for standing against personal freedoms, in life, it would suppose that this entire COVID-19 thing is largely well understood, by and large, for what it might mean, for other people. Other people have been having a huge roil about it, somewhat facetiously; people had gotten away with a lot of garbage behavior, both online, and off - some people planned out criminal activities and victim profiling and targeting, out in society. 

One person's voice said, though, that she hadn't seen anyone "dying," and news reports would affirm that many people who had been reported to have had the coronavirus disease, and died - had comorbid illnesses, on top of coronavirus - to suppose that they had perhaps been targets of some form of nuclear watershed abandonment, neglect, or that they had simply been "nasty" people, whereas I strive to have little of that, as for myself. Even better if I could have none. 

Tobacco, though, and I'll have some, regularly. Feeding the birds, and I'll go to the park. Some other things, I'll simply just not understand, for the moment, and I'd have to leave it, at that.

Basic tenets of most-effective executive functioning.

1. Change happens gradually, and in stages. Significant changes in a work environment are typically foreshadowed from the initial moment of something seeming improper, and such things are unlikely to significantly match an executive’s current compendium of acquired ethics and assimilated behaviors. When things move too quickly, the mind reverts to a primitive state of fear-based reactions, rather than sound and logical reasoning about what, to proceed, would be most right.
2. A task-handler does and works most effectively when assigned only a single task at a time, for the sake of simplicity. A simple 2-step packing process, for example, is made more of distractions when additional movements are demanded of the task-handler, like walking back and forth to obtain each package, individually. 
3. When a 
4. When a problem appears, stop; then attend to the problem by acknowledging the problem to the client while managing the solution on a help desk site, or by logically deconstructing the problem, processes, and foundations by which the problem exists. In the case in which the problem has exceeded all reason, it’s best to not overstay the failure. Simply gracefully exit if there is a need to attend to other affairs, and schedule some time to research the problem further, if resources merit it, and reschedule a solutions meeting, if possible. Leaving expectations unfulfilled is generally understood, on the smaller scales of small business. 
5. Practice the arts and sciences that are endowed upon a business transaction - psychology, etiquette, conscientiousness, conversationality, efficiency, and tact. Dumping an emotional load on to a business relationship is a sure way to fail more certainly, at some point, rather than maintaining sustainability, which is obviously the more desirable outcome. 

Compto-prot-orthogphiware, via alternate charsets, through Standards of Common Commons.

A spark of an idea-tomographical leximême photograph of what purports to set out to be a monograph, one for this gig-morning:productivity - competence mockup of some stuff that will power some thrust, perhaps.

1st one-off idea-note-taken:

HardwáreProç'e'čràp bin«ª»ríêt pigęonne sçhweak   HardwareParce to the byte-lengthnqjqjqjqjqj machine binary logoarioctet numerical rhythm, as an attentuated expansion/ compression

Based on some ingress about using "licensed" webpost derivative squat-pwning locality-empowered malicious neglected people, who appear amidst à vast anti-productions-enterprise publications arrête, like I dont notice non-un-standard individuals-behavior: nothing of note. People are playing the "something's srsly:[leave:ignore:lecture] they play off of standard Common psychologies and valid équitable social guilt standards - no bumAF jaunts on the sidewalks, imaginably, for garbage, clothes, and recyclables.

Pretty weird stuff, pwning the streets scène and subaural à rawrr-rawrr... sçhweaky schqueaky... with à hot telescoping broadway street-surfaces-amplitude pwn of «at minimum, me». People around me aren't very standard, either, of the fluff-triste transient-stalker crisis-actors of ruining the climate of the windy corridor main functional positioning azimuté strange inconstituency of somehow, particularly hot in this area.

It's unseasonably trash-laden in the streets, and the pwn kiosk drive-up société is jaunting hip-hop tracks.

Thèse were some sources that held some insight and entreaty into developing à reasonably Euclidean-spheres various-harmonic relations-parallel-scripting-parse language breakout arrête, perhaps for an ambient side-loaded accessibility-features novelty processing kit for partite-confīte splotch - of an arbitrarily pwn status jaunt street-living-room mix demographic; it's pretty vulgar, and I hear awful travesties-dramatics in various onsets constantly throughout the day. 

https://html.spec.whatwg.org/#common-microsyntaxes

That, some schema dot org stuff, some microformats stuff, some claims on strange underlying psychologies of the someone involved in getting the re-pub stuff up;

My général take is that if it's Common to any degree, I'll come upon the source as relied-upon needs-to matériel, and then I'll leave it again, since it's not un-standard-no:it's not standard psychology.

Notebook working on a visual-design quatrærtholgmo»omot‹alg«or»g.9řc≥tet byte loading machine language parsing aesthetics standard source material breakout-arrays.

The concept is simple enough. I have a slow I/O data connections on my device, and I Can read and functionally take in signifiant contributions of non-volatile web-standards sites, but then, if only the site would also jaunt side-loading parallèle iPigeon jaunt leisure aside pop-ups, to mimick being even slightly jauntededAF'ed... a bit more better than shitsicles triste incursion of à late-heraldry dept. Of public affairs-socioalètrivsisselesmonts, which happened to be a trying 25 days or so, much of which was better off in that it was a trash dumpster years-end move outs-academiesiaetiques of the recyclables-bum coverage area, which I've been looking and feeling alright to jaunt-triste alley-trash dumpster diving-bum, yet it doesn't get weird, from my volatility profile fluff. Other bums walk on the same streets, why not a garbage recycler clothing enthusiast tech life style blogger standard fluffboy academic dégrée and à load-bearing bum profile kit? Pretty standard to dig through the trash, yet a non-domesticated variety bum. 

Chère were tons of Asian .pharma ad hoc OTCs and some prescribables; tricyclical anti-depressants, and I'm not for fluffing pharma nitro butyri smokin' "meh," ... Smoking is tobacco and cigars. An un-justified jaunt-inclusive Nabisco diet triste would be okay; they're 1:2:3 biscuité compagnie nationelle in a card box; supposedly:« !...whatever ... »

I call the ingress monolithiques-historic Nabisco-socialite-bifték bonne déjeuner for a sçhweaky peut-être commentaire on the bleeding of gums, méat bits in the teeth, some fleas-smellin' piss, leanAF diet on tech rotary codices in a filthy outdoors environment, and then the window-to-street ratio is so not Guy who did it himself kind of fluff-triste animal cruelty thing, and it smells like it, as Well, outside. 

I'm going to follow up GTD on my tobacco curing crop Summer gardening project, and purchase ionic minerals, gallon of milk, then perhaps [or before], workup some mockup linguistics soundex homologies of charset standards of validly jaunt-loading bif-coto-proteries-schqueaf-schqueaf, à rawr râ rawrr.. then I have to encode the resonant-spinners-toy district jaunt to do a makeshift pigeon ciconne-pipe-machine organ, made of spinners, instead, maybe. 

I have some more un-published blog notebook article to upload, after this one.