Portland, a pictorial summary of my trip...

Playing a bit of catch up

So, I'm back in my apartment for the majority of this week... which I significantly hope is a sign of things to come. I've been saying for weeks that next week I'm going to get my car back... and that next week hasn't come yet. First it's the headlights that don't come in on time, then it's a broke attachment on the rear bumper that hasn't come in, and last weekend my father decided to get the flu while nature simultaneously opened up 6-8 inches of snow on us. I know it's out of my control, but c'mon... pretty please..... I want my car back!!! /rant

It's nice to be in my apartment, as opposed to being at my parents place and paying rent on an apartment I'm not living in. I've missed my city. Though, since I had to take the train to get here there are a score of things that I forgot to bring, a bunch of fresh cold cuts for sandwiches (to save money on lunches... that plan is going well), bills that need paying, some of my guitar music and also pictures from my trip to Portland that I've promised to some of you. Well, I'll be going home to babysit on Wednesday so I'll be sure to bring them back or take care of that post that night. I feel like I've got a hundred things to write about but no time to write about them in. I guess that's a good thing considering the sparcity of the recent weeks. Oh well, when my life gets back in order (stop laughing... that loudly) then maybe I'll get back to posting regularly. However, I will say that for those few of you who read/care (and that I'm aware of) I have been trying to comment on your posts that so that you don't take it personally that I dropped off the face of the planet... cause I didn't ;-P

So what's the point of turning 24...

Sure, aging is inevitable, but seriously... 24? I actually Googled that question and do you know what I found out?? A whole lot of nothing, which obviously didn't help me one bit. It's one of those ages that just feels weird. It has no special significance attached to it. It's not old by any stretch of the imagination, but it's also not quite "frat house" young. It's just there... staring back at you just being like, "yep, here I am". Well, regardless, at 2:08pm today I'm one more year older.

So, how do I intend to spend my day you wonder? Well, besides starting now with this post, I'm going to go back to sleep for a few hours to wake up at 6am EST to catch the 6:30 train into Penn Station, and then transfer to another rail line to get to one of The Agency's training facilities where I'll be from 9-4 under going intense blindness immersion training. Yep, today and tomorrow I get to spend under blindfolds basically, learning traveling and life skills as if I were blind. Then back on the train to get back to my parents house around 6:30pm, cutting together video footage from this past summer's program for a presentation to the State Council on Friday, and then sleep. Now, this is what I have planned, there's every chance that some random other things will occur, like my family's traditional Carvel birthday ice cream cake, a few presents, and possibly a drink out if the weather's good, but we'll see. With the mood that permeated the house this evening(I can't wait to be back at my apartment), it might just be early to bed.... who knows.

Birthday wishes have already started coming in from Facebook, the first three nicely enough are from people who actually care, rather than just the annual birthday post-ers. It's always interesting to see who logs on to Facebook tomorrow and sees my birthday and decides to pop out of the wood work and say something. I'm half afraid, half hopeful that Jenny might call. If she realizes she probably will, and then I'll have that to deal with, and probably quite the rant to post about.

In any case, it's 2am, and I have to be up in 4 hours so I'd better take my birthday nap while I still can...

My liver doesn't like my weekend activities...

So my plan yesterday, was to come into Philly, make a quiet dinner, catch up on all of the wonderful Sci-fi show's that my DVR so graciously records for me, edit a blog post into a more refined form, and pack what I need for Portland next weekend. Yeah, not so much. I get in, and start my evening, but then E comes out of his room and mentions that he and a bunch of colleagues from work are going out for one of their birthday's and invites me along. There goes quiet night. E and I ordered food and then everyone come over to our place for a few drinks before we went out. We went to this local bar that's only a few block walk from our apartment (but then again most things are just a few blocks from my apartment) and met up with the birthday girl and a bunch of her friends from work. It wasn't nearly the fiasco that was last weekend, and thank goodness because two of those in that short of a time would probably have done me in. It was pretty much the ideal night out. A few drinks before, awesome place, good loud music though not too loud to talk, sports on the tv's, little bit of dancing, reasonable amount of money spent, and then good pizza back at the apartment to end the night. Did it end then, of course not... I was up till 5:30am talking on IM, and catching up on some of the show's that I planned on watching earlier in the evening. But the time I start having regular sleep habits, is well... let's just say probably a long time from now.

Anyway, now to continue the weekend. Packing everything I need and taking off from Philly within the hour, hanging out at home for a while, then out to another birthday party for a friend of mine who went to high school with me, but we only met Junior year in college. Funny world like that. I leave with a quote I just heard on one of the show's (Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles) I watched and plan on pondering during the drive home:

"We can't predict the future, only try and prevent it."

Tonight is the night, of the night of......

What a weekend, and it's only just begun. Let's just start with the fact that it's 4:21am my time and I'm up eating Grand's Oven Baked Biscut's and drinking tea because it's not quite safe to go to sleep yet... not because of how I feel, but because how of my best friend JP feels... *update, it's 4:49am and I just spent a half hour taking care of him in the bathroom. He's now comfortably sleeping on the bathroom floor*

Friday: We went out to New Hope. Awesome time, JP, Surfer and myself... the three amigos... (I just came up with that, it's late, shut up) went out for drinks to start the weekend of awesome. We went to Havana's, where we actually didn't see anyone we knew from high school, and just enjoyed the live music. Luckily for us, the band was actually pretty damn good that night. Craziness ensued... round after round of beer's ensued... and lots of great conversation on the presidential candidates policies about Immigration... no, I'm not joking. Randomly through the night, JP offered himself up to a random woman to dance, and we ended up spending the rest of the night dancing and talking and hanging out with their group as well. 4 of them and 3 of us made for one awesome group. We all danced... well, correction, JP and I danced while Surfer stayed with whomever was at the table and talked with them. Now, to better imagine this scene in your head, JP can dance, is pretty much the mac daddy of the group, and just all definitions of 'the man'... I on the other hand, while a good guy am not nearly as smooth as he is. So by saying dancing, it means he was dancing well, and I was getting points for effort just being out there. Long, self-deprecating story short, we had a blast, got their numbers and invited them to Memorial Day skydiving with us. I hope they come, it'd be an awesome time! We left the bar around 2am... maybe 1:30 ish but not before because we all had stuff to do in the morning. JP thought he was all set to drive home, until when we were walking back to his truck, he decided that it would be a good idea to do a pull up on the flagpole that one of the store's had up. Now, Surfer and I were waiting for the catastrophe that was about to happen, but JP was rather oblivious..... until the pole snapped down from the building's face and the end that used to be sticking up in the air was now being held up by the ground. At that point, we promptly continued walking while he gave me his key's to drive home. Smart plan.

Saturday: AL meeting in the morning... blah blah blah.... politics politics politics.... happy ending. JP picks me up from TCNJ to go back to my apt in Philly to start our crazy freaking Superbowl weekend. It's pretty much uneventful till the evening, we get food, hang out and talk with old friends, stop at the beer distributer to have some on hand for tomorrow, more friends come in, it's a grand old time. We head out to dinner, have dinner at what I believe is the same restaurant that Sly Stallone filmed Rocky's son watching the simulated Rocky/Dixon fight in.... (and that's just one of the big reasons I love Philly) and then all planned to go out for the night. We go to Fedo to start the night, and as much as E loves the place because it's somewhere he's been and likes making habits like that... the rest of us are kinda like, eh... music's not that great, atmosphere's not really that good, and drinks could be a bit better. *and then the clock struck 5:16am in real life, JP still passed out on the bathroom floor* So after we decide to go, E leaves J and I in charge of finding the next awesome place. And since, by his own description, J is a fabulously flamboyant homosexual, we decide that a gay bar is the best place to go to. (Side note, I do consider my life now complete since I've went to a lesbian bar in NYC with Distracted Spunk and a gay bar in Philly with, well, a group of people) We start walking until all the street signs have rainbows underneath them (no joke) and turn down a side alley, barely big enough for a car to fit down and stop at a door that has a huge crowd around it and a large rainbow flag flying proud and high (this is no exaggeration). I'm mildly concerned but trust J enough that if he says this place is better, then it's gotta be better. We walk in, make our way through the throngs of men, to the stairs to the second floor, the dance floor. We enter the second floor and it's a scene out of a gay movie I've never seen but always imagined. It was a dancing sausage-fest that almost made me nervous at first, but for whatever reason (I'm guessing the alcohol already in my system) I was alright enough to give it a shot. E got us all really really strong vodka/red bull's and that was it. J was quite right, despite my melancholy mood of the evening (due in part to DS's woe's of life and love) the music was better, the drinks were stronger/better, and the music was also worth listening/dancing to! J came over and said to me, "There's just something liberating about being at a gay bar that you can't find at any other bar." and quite frankly, he's right. It's not like I was looking for someone... but maybe it was just that we were all looking for ourselves there that made the atmosphere what it was. Anyway, as the night went, JP disappeared, E and his lady friend kissed for the first time, though under significantly dubious circumstances, J enjoyed the fact we were all on his territory and enjoying ourselves, and I was spending the bulk of my time txting DS, enjoying the music, and trying to analyze the atmosphere. The night ended roughly. JP's coat disappeared only to be found on another individual... and being in the current significantly inebriated state he was in (and currently still is, 5:37am) he had to be taken outside while I negotiated with the bouncers on his behalf, ultimately ending in his coat being returned and him walking away cursing off the bar staff who wouldn't deal with his belligerent behind. Me, JP and L walked home, stopped to oogle at the beauty of Independence hall, run in front of traffic, piss behind a dumpster, for JP to profess his undying love to L for finding such an article of sentimental value as his coat was, and then finally, finally to make it back to my apartment. At that point we stayed up and talked about all the different things that alcohol loosens our tongue's about. L and E went to sleep, I stayed up taking care of JP until this very minute still.

Sure, there's more I could go into... E and his lady friend's woe's tonight, E's profession of extreme thanks and commitment to our best friendship, JP's helping poor Michael bail his cousin out of jail, L and how good it was to have her with us, and I haven't even though about the plethora of emotions and feelings that passed through me all night - up to and through now... but I'll deal with me another time. I wish, I could write, that at 5:49am I'm going to sleep, but I'm actually not... I'll be up at least another hour to make sure JP is alright, as warm and as comfortable as he can be on the bathroom floor. This is why I was made to deal without sleep when necessary, right?

A memory stirs...

Growing up, I was never really that confident, self assured kid that could say what he wanted or had friends who followed him around. My defining characteristic growing up was an unreasonably fierce loyalty to my friends in the face of anything, and I mean... anything. From walking a mile on a sprained ankle because friends wanted me to go get breakfast with them, to getting chased by police, or having another group of older, bigger, kids come try to bully us off the basketball court behind the township little league fields. 3 of us, 20 of them, and there was no hesitation on my part, if J said we were staying then we were staying. When they came on the court to try to stop us from playing and J said keep playing, I kept playing. It wasn't that I was just a blind follower of anyone but that for whatever reason, whatever charisma that J had 10 years old 'hooked me' so to speak and I'd go wherever, do whatever he'd ask.

We were playing basketball back behind the little league fields in the city I grew up in. J, R, E, and myself if I remember correctly. This court, this set of little league fields, snack bar, etc. were ours. All our fathers' were coaches, on the Exec board, coaches on the All-Star team that we were all on, had keys to the whole place.... it was ours. We were about 10-11 years old at that time. There was a private school across the way for more middle school aged kids and that particular day, they came over and decided they wanted the court. There were about 15-20 of them in total compared to the 4 of us and they decided they wanted the whole court and we had to leave. At this juncture, R decided the best choice was to actually vacate the court and go sit on the swings, which was a move significantly indicative of his character. J on the other hand, was pretty much telling them to f* off with me standing to his right unwavering in support, and E slightly further off to the left slightly, but still with us. More words might have been exchanged at this point, but ultimately it was decided that they could pick any 3 of their group to play us for the court. If we won, the court stayed ours and if they won we left the court to them.

The exact details have long since faded, but basically we played a half court game, to like 5 or 7 baskets, with the rest of them looking on/cheering for them, and R all the way across the field swinging by himself. J being captain of the All-Star team pulled E and I in at the top of the key, spoke a few short abrupt inspirational sentences probably something along the lines of: this is our court and we're not going to let them take it now let's go f*ing kick their asses. The game commenced, three 10 year olds against three bigger 13 year olds.... it was a veritable playground David versus Goliath.

Who knows who scored first, or how physical the game was or wasn't. It was essentially a street ball game so there were undoubtedly pushes and elbows and multiple time hitting the ground. This much, I do remember. J was always a smaller faster kid and this helped him get around the kids they picked to play with little difficulty. E was average sized for our age and as such he got in a few shots here and there but was largely shutdown. Me, being taller than average, did have a few inches on my opponent, which helped make the difference but I remember him being a much heavier individual than I was so he had the body weight advantage. It was close through the first 3-5 points, back and forth with no clear leader. A shot came off the rim right between my bigger opponent and I. As it happened we both grabbed it at the same time, and that's when things got interesting. He was bigger, probably a bit stronger, but I remember hearing J start yelling at me to get that f*ing ball and don't let go. That pretty much settled that, because what I didn't have in brute strength or size, I more than could make up for in drive, in 'heart' as they call it. I remember thinking at the time, that no matter what happened or how much I got hurt or anything, I was not letting go of that ball and was getting it for J. It never got violent but all his friends started yelling, and J and kept yelling and we must have pulled each other all over the court for at least a minute or two with neither grip loosening. I could hardly feel my arms or abs at that point because of how unwaveringly I set them around that ball. After it was clear neither of us were giving it up and everyone else got bored of watching us go at it, it was decided that we'd have a jump ball between him and I to determine who got it. I remember, even as we were told it was ok to let go, that I had to have the ball and yanked it out of his hands at the end to give over for the jump. As I tried to straighten myself up I felt how tight my abs were, and saw him wince the same way. I remember thinking at the time that he was in the same shape I was in, so despite how I felt, now was when I could take the advantage to beat him. One of his group who wasn't playing came in to throw the ball for the jump. And jump I did. I still remember the searing pain that shot across my midsection as I jumped and stretched up to win the jump and hit it over to J. That was the turning point in the game. My opponent was exhausted from the battle we just had, and J was still able to consistently beat his off the dribble and between J and I, they didn't score again and we won. Some of their numbers had dwindled already as it was, but at that time the rest of them started turning tail and slowly walking back to their school. I think I remember J taunting them on their walk of shame, offering to play them again and asking them where they were going, but none took the bait. It felt good, really good winning that game and watching them all walk away, but better than that, was the look J gave me when we all congratulated each other on the win. I think, on some level, he must have known that I stayed and played as hard as I did just because he said that we were staying. But none of that was necessary, none of that was thought, nothing was said... it was a much simpler celebration. We were challenged, we fought back, we kicked ass, and that put us on the top of the world, plain and simple.

Ahhh, to be 10...

Choir concerts and missing the dead....

I missed my grandfather today, more than I have in a long time. This would be my father's father who lived in Florida until the time of his death. He came up to visit in when I was in high school, his next to last time up I believe. At the time I was either with K or on my way to being with her and we wanted to go do something with my grandfather. We decided since he said he liked music to take him to the all-eastern concert that was going on that weekend. We all piled in K's father's van and went to the show. It was one of the only things that I can remember that grandpa and I ever really did together and it was awesome. He loved the concert, and just couldn't get over how young the student's were and how good they sounded. My father said that he talked about going to that concert for months after. I purchased a CD of it and sent it to him, which he greatly enjoyed.

The point of this story, I guess, is that I went to another choir concert today and for one reason or another, I was struck with a feeling that grandpa would really have liked the concert and I wish he were there with me to see it. Don't know why it hit like it does, I guess with feelings like that we never do really know. I've been to plenty of other concerts since he died and none of them gave me that feeling... but I keep just going to back to the fact, that he'd have loved that concert.

E was glad that I came to see him conduct again. I've been to see almost every concert of his since he he was my student teacher. That's 7-8 years. I've seen his worst choirs, and his best choirs, bad and good song selections, the works. I may not quite comprehend why my coming every time means so much to him, but I can see it in his face every time he turns around and I'm there. There's so much more than just a simple "thank you, glad you came", it's much deeper than that, and it's a great feeling for me, even if I may not get it. He and his wife just had a baby girl, she's so freaking cute. I'm gonna give him a call in a few weeks and hopefully be able to get together for once outside of me showing up at all of his concerts.

And, I have to remember to write Tiny Dancer's letter tomorrow, I wouldn't want to let her down...

Nothing special...

That last post kinda wore me out. It's like tangle of razor wire just fell on me and now I have to straighten it out without getting massacred in the process. I didn't plan on now being the time I opened all that stuff up, but I guess it's easier to start now than let a few more years add to it? I'll work on convincing myself of that at least. I'll do my best not to let this turn into an outlet for shitty, "I wish you loved me" spoo. So, a topic change.

My father is an interesting character. For all of his life that I can remember, he's stayed up late, done things on the level of guys 20 years his junior, and just always been young in heart and action. Now, he's 59 and I understand that perhaps he can't do that forever, but I find it interesting that only in the last 3 months has he realized this. It was like he did anything until he approached 60 and somehow that clicked something inside of him where it was like, "hey, I can't do this anymore" when in point of fact, he's no different from when he was 58 and doing everything. Personally, I hope I'm not in store for that. With how different he and I are I don't think so... I have every intention of skydiving from now until I'm 80 and then some. At some point I'm sure I'll have to slow down, but I'd like to do it gradually rather than just hit a point where I decide "I'm old" and must grind to a crawl. Though, I've got a few more years of some more important things to concern myself with before I have to decide how I'm going to be when I'm old... er...:-p

What dreams may come....

My head sinks into her pillow as the rest of my body relaxes with it. Eyes closed, every muscle limp, the pounding of my heartbeats coming back under control. Propped up on one elbow, she looks down at me, smiling, clearly pleased with herself. "Can I do anything else for you?" she asks coyly. I chuckle and sigh, keeping my eyes closed, gathering back my energy after the fourth time she had made me orgasm that night. "No, I think I'm good, thanks. You've seen well to that." She giggles and replies with a confident, "Good."

I held her in my arms as she slept. The movie she so emphatically wanted me to see with her couldn't hold her sway against the exhaustion of the day. I stroked her hair, straightening it's brunette lengths across my arm. As Robin Williams desperately searched the depths of hell for his wife, I had eyes for nothing but her. She looked so pensive as she slept... I wondered what it was that pervaded her dreams onto her face.

She takes her left hand and starts to run it over me, first across my shoulders and chest, until she works her way up to my face. My eyes opened now, I stare across the room as silence continues to blanket us. Her fingers trace from one jaw line to the other, work their way up around my brow, and down my nose, over my eyes, across my lips.

Half trying to soothe her worries away, half knowing I'd never want to forget this moment, I took my fingertips and began to lightly trace, lightly caress her face. Coming down from her brow, turning my hand to run the softer backs of my fingers down her cheek and jaw, turning back to my fingertips to trace her lips.

She continued this for minutes. Starting over again or circling back once she had completed mapping my face with her fingers. I spoke no words; she probably felt my jaw tense up. "What's wrong?" she with a look of confused concern. "It's nothing" I said, lying.

I went more slowly over her lips each time I passed over them. On some level, I knew I'd never be this close to her again. I traced every part of her face, consciously trying to not miss a single detail. I wanted to remember every line, every curve, the smooth warmth of every facet of her face. Like a topographer copying the world he knows onto paper, I copied every inch of her into my memory, my eyes never leaving her countenance. She woke with the credits scrolling up the television screen. As she sat up, my hand caressed her face one last time, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen across her face.

"I know you better than that." she said, seeing past my lie and trying to get me to open up. To lost to bring myself out of the 8 year old memory that held onto me. A quiet voice in the back of my head whispered, that I was once her. Young, innocent, lost in absolutely everything about my first love. That I too traced the face of the one I love and how much you, now, bears a striking resemblance to me, then. But that whisper never left my thoughts as I looked up at her. "I'm fine, it's nothing" I lied again. "Ok, fine. Don't tell me" she conceded, "You just look so pensive all of a sudden, that's all."

I replied to her with silence.

Oh what a night...

My AIM away message reads:

"The arduous process of writing a letter of recommendation."

My away time is listed at: 8hours and 47minutes

Yes, that's the kind of night I had... except for the time between 10pm and 11pm... that was Stargate Atlantis.

But now, it's 3:30am and I have to take a sledgehammer to delicately pound on my car tomorrow and get it ready for new bumpers so I can drive it again.

Yes, the Acura Legend is/was a nice car, though, I imagine with 20yr/200k it's, oh... how shall we say it... seen better days? Acutally, a 1998 Acura 3.2CL was pretty much my 'dream car' for quite a little while. Needless to say though, I've gotten rather attached to my 01 Accord coupe. Here's to it's 3rd life!

Real post or two tomorrow, but at the moment, I'm mildly delusional :-D

Twice in one day... a record

I know, I know. I saw the pig fly in the backyard. So, updates of sorts. Car search still sucks. I've fully expanded into looking for not only Honda Accord Coupes, but also Acura CL's. Maybe that's not all that much of a full expansion considering the multitude of other makes and models out there, but it's huge for me. Once I find something I like I stick vehemently by it, living or mechanical. My father's calling about one CL tomorrow, and I'm probably going to look at one by the Agency. So yeah, of my initial list, there are 4 more Accords and 4 CL's to look at. I'm sure I'll find something.

Tiny Dancer is back again after successfully coming out of surgery. We've expanded communication lines to txt as well so we'll see how that goes. I'm glad she's alright. I'd have really not been cool if something happened before I really got to know her. Anyway, writing letters and txting are two things I don't do enough of anyway *hah* so the more the merrier! She brings up a good point with relationships (in the conversation we're in the middle of right now) that she and her friend are on the same level. She's so right, having two people be on the same level, the same page is the key to any relationship really working out for the best. So often it's when there's an imbalance that things go awry and people get hurt. Anyway, she's fun, and new, and different... and in those aspects, just I was looking for. It's still infinitely regrettable that GMDN was involved, but things don't always turn out quite as one plans them... just ask every other one of my past relationships.

Distracted Spunk is back safely and that's always good to know. I'm looking forward to my trip out there for sure. And OR, and NC, which, come to think of it, I'd better buy soon or else it's not gonna be that affordable. NC and OR right now, then CA x 2 for March/April. Now that I stop and think about it, I may have to postpone NC with all this car stuff. Either 1. I'm still going to be looking, or 2. I'm gonna just have it back and want to stay in Philly and not go flying all over the country just yet. We'll see.

So, this week up: five wonderful days working at the Agency, looking at 2-7 cars and hopefully buying one of them, court for the accident that totaled my car, trying desperately to spend time in Philly, and spending at least 3 hours on some kind of creative outlet or another. I'm going to try and set a goal a week, either photography, writing, musical composition, inventing... something with a creative twist to start making that a part of my regular life. I'll post updates of what comes, or doesn't come of it. For my own records, as much as for at least the one person who I know reads this...

Weekend Assignment #197: Missing Words

So, one of my favorite author's, whom I've met, John Scalzi, on one of his blogs had a weekend writing series called Weekend Assignments. I didn't realize that he had this until he stopped doing it and posted about closing it. Another reader of his has taken up the colors of this endeavor, so these will pop up here every now and then.

Weekend Assignment #197: Now that the WGA strike has had lots of time to affect the prime time television schedules, how is it affecting you as a viewer? What show do you miss most, aside from reruns?

Extra Credit: how are you spending the time instead?


Assignment Answer: Luckilly for me, there aren't that many things that I watched regularly on network television that I'm missing all that much. Honestly a lot of my DVR is filled with more unscripted shows or reruns, Sunrise Earth, Star Trek Voyager, Deep Space 9, stuff like that. Some of the show's that I do watch occasionally though have been affected, Pushing Daisies, 24, Bones, Prison Break, and Bionic Woman. These shows, while I usually record/watch them, I live without them quite easilly. The Sara Connor Chronicles, Stargate Atlantis and Battlestar Galactica, three shows of which I am immensely invested in, all worked it out so that what they planned to show will happen regardless of this WGA situation. So, since 2 of my favorites, and 1 expected favorite aren't affected, I guess it'd probably be Prison Break or Bones that I really miss the most.
Extra Credit Answer: At my parents house, looking for a freaking car. I'd much much rather be watching tv...

I hate posts like this...

Sometimes I wonder about this world. I wonder why everyone needs to be first, or act like they're doing "what has to be done" when in point of fact it's just making what could be a good situation awkward and tense and someplace I don't want to be. I have a habit of thinking about the worst possible outcome of pretty much every situation just so that when it happens, I either can say that I expected it or be pleasantly surprised by it. I'm not looking forward to car shopping tomorrow, and might only mildly be more happy about it if I actually get one, because frankly, the stress and uncomfortableness isn't worth it.

I think dread can be one of the worst emotions out there, even worse than the ones simultaneously felt and experienced. Bad is bad, uncomfortable sucks, but dread, is all of them irrationally rolled into one oppressive ball felt at a time that might otherwise be entirely free from stress, strain, or problem. It eats you faster and more thoroughly than guilt when there's nothing but smiles and sunshine around you.

This is why I can't wait to completely move out and have everything that I have to do and deal with be reliant upon only me. These nights of apprehension, days of anxiety about what the people who are so closely associated with me are going to do and reflect upon me. I can't hide in the shadows enough to completely avoid getting lumped together with attitudes and actions I despise. Hopefully soon, once there's nothing left to transfer to me, and all life responsibility is finally my own, these feelings can join depressing blog posts like these and stay buried in the archives of the past.

No, I'm not doing a reflective post on the recently passed year...

I want a car. I want to take a nice, long, leisurely drive over to Lake Erie or somewhere really far away just to get back out on the open road. I definitely wouldn't say it's anything other than just wanting to drive again, but I'm keeping an eye on it. That's kinda how it started last time... maybe I should take some D.

In other news, I think the reason I don't know who/what type of girl I want, is because I'm not quite yet set in who I am. Like I'm not set physically who I am, mentally, certainly spiritually, perhaps some emotionally, etc... I'm still wandering this world trying to figure it all out. I spent 6 years with someone else there, and now looking back I don't know if that helped or hindered me getting to where I am right now. Either way, I'm not positive it helped, and I sure don't feel like having anything hinder me, so there.

Rose and I went to go see I Am Legend tonight. Will Smith is the freaking man. He climbed to the top of the world and is now just sitting on it, enjoying the view. The movie really is only starring him... and some special effects. It's bleak, it's dark, it's plausible, it's a picture of who I'd hope to be in that situation, but then again, there goes my hero worship. Oh... still haven't had a full post about that... well, maybe coming up soon. Anyway, now it's time to read the book.

I sent Tiny Dancer a letter the other day. Took the time while waiting for people to proofread my work at the Agency to design my own return address label. I like it a lot actually, more than I thought I would. It's a picture of me sitting on the edge of a cliff, with the sky and a deadly drop that I'm way to close to in the background. Just the way I like it. If you ask nicely I'll even send you a letter with that label on it. I'm kinda interested to see what she thought of the contents. I wrote it at work, and included a poem that I had published back in college. I'm sure she liked just getting the mail, but I'm also interested in her response to the content. I haven't talked to her in like 3-4 days.. probably the longest since we've started talking.

Tomorrow is dinner with Distracted Spunk and about 40 other people. Well, not 40, but a lot. Meeting up in the city and then going from there. I'm looking forward to it. It'll probably be one of if not the last time I see her before she goes and flies back to the wrong coast. Not cool. But of the 10 states I'll be visiting this year, her's is one of them so it's alright, sorta. I laughed out loud the other day, when she asked me to make sure she doesn't stay in the state she's in. I told her I'd promise to kidnap her if she ever decided to settle permanently. I'd probably do it too if she ever did really move out there. There are some friends who can move away and stay, but she's not one of them and neither is Actress which is why I'm so freaking excited that she and I and BigE might be all roommates in a sweet 3-bedroom setup next August. That would set me for the next 5+ years and move me much more permanently to Philly than I am right now, and I think I'd really like that. It really surprises me more and more each day just how much I miss not living in that city and being stuck at home till I get a car again. And now that this post has come full circle.... Bed.

Thinking backwards...

I had two different discussions today about the past. Normally, sure things would come up since pretty much everything we do has some root in the past, and with old friends, well, we'll be laughing about some of things we've done for many more years to come. But these conversations, were actually about the same thing even though neither person knew the other was talking about it to me. Both individuals, were longing to go back to a "simpler time" when they were more carefree, could see that what the had then was what they wanted now, and the more they tried to get that now, the further lost they ended up.

Distracted Spunk was first on the night. She was watching old home videos, and seeing how happy, carefree, really just how simple everything seemed back then and how much she desired that simplicity now compared to the chaos she's been enduring. Similarly, my first real relationship (and many other firsts) Village Cheerleader expressed the same sentiment to me about how when we first began our relationship life seemed so much simpler, between her and I as well as life in general then. She just wanted to go back to that and stop dealing with all of the ridiculousness that has occupied her life since we broke up back then. Was everything really so much simpler then? What would life even be like if we could somehow revert to that simpler state of being? In 5 years, 10 years... will we just look back again and see this time and comment on how silly we were and things were simple now too? Distracted Spunk posed just that question in a way, "Do we know too much, or expect too much?" Could we realistically function in the world we're all living in now if we were able to revert back to as naive as we were then?

Now, call me skeptical but I kinda think we're not that naive any more for a reason. Sure, for some of us it might have been the choice to do things we thought were grown up and cool and what we should be doing, way before we were ready for it. I consider myself not all that naive of a person and can say that I've been thankful for that on more times than I've cursed it. It's allowed me to answer questions for people without them having to get their hands dirty on something or someone that any of us non naive can see is a mistake. I've helped more than one friend avoid or get rid of a person or situation that would have been detrimental to them as a person, and for that my lack of naiveness is all the more valuable to me. Yes, I'm sure it's jaded me, and made some acts of just living more difficult than others, but in the end, I wouldn't have been able to make the choices I needed to make if I were as green as a cucumber. No matter where I stand on religion/faith/spirituality, I refuse for a second to believe that what we've learned in life and what we know can be wrong. Whether it's 2+3=5 or getting an STD because you slept with a stranger because you felt in the mood and got an STD, it's there, it's a knowledge you now have and can do something with. Wishing you didn't have it won't do you or anyone else around you any good. Some people had the good fortune in life to go through it more naively than others, envying them won't get you a hair's width closer to being as naive as them. We're in the world we're in, with the information we possess, heading on whatever path life takes us for a reason.

So no, as much as those "simpler" times seemed nicer, maybe even were nicer, I'm not going to waste a moment of my life dwelling on how much I miss them. The best, most positive way I see at the moment to go through life, is to take whatever information you have and accept it, learn from it, experiment with it, understand it, and then use it in the best way you can for yourself and those around you. It most likely will not be easy, will not be fun, but living your life as it is in the present, instead of longing for what was in the past, will be the legacy in 10 years, you wish you had done from this day forward.

Ever try to get a retiree to work ahead of schedule...

And because I could not make such a herculean feat happen, I now have to work on Monday. How awesome is that. Is the entire report now done and together? Yes. Could this report have been together last week? Also, yes. However, because these freaking parts too so damn long, it might be late.... again. I look forward to eventually having the seniority to make people jump when I ask for things. Now, I'll be the first to admit it, I'm totally chock full of that young employee eagerness. I want it done, and have motivation to get it done because I haven't been jaded by who knows what. Seriously though, would it have killed him to humor me? I wrote what had to be written in about an hour. Anyway, it's ok... because I love The Agency.

I'll finally get to spend a night at my apartment since the accident. I'm headed back tonight to help pick up a friend from the airport and since it's closer to my apt then back home, it didn't take much to convince them to stay with me. Honestly, when I first moved in I was just kinda like, sure... why not, it helps out BigE, it'd be nice to have somewhere to retreat to, maybe even I could have a weekend place I could write poetry or a novel from in a city. It's turned into a most refreshing feeling of having my own, laid back, relaxed place from which to start my own life. If I'm up writing a blog post through 5am, so be it. If I want tea and to leave it out, or make pancakes, or do whatever there's no more comments to deal with, and if someone happens to make one, frakk 'em, it's my apartment.

So, Tiny Dancer sent me a letter today, just like she promised she would. It was very stream of consciousness, which she warned me about, but it was good. It's nice to see someone else's mind jump around and how it does to make me feel a bit less concerned about my own (in)sanity. No revelations really, but it was nice. I can't recall the last time I'd gotten a letter. Sure a card or two with a personal message inside, but that's different than a snail mail letter. About the only thing that could top that is if it would have been handwritten. I'm even more of a sucker for something that personal. I intended on writing back to her tonight, but the plane flight didn't get in until 2am, then we had to finish watching Downfall, and then it was after 4am. I'll write her tomorrow. My friend and I have a nice long day with nothing to do so it'll give time to chill, and just hang.

New layout now, new year around the corner

So, I probably should have been doing graphic editing work for The Agency these last 2-3 hours, but I decided that I was just gonna change layout's around and such. Yeah, I'm smart. I've spent a lot of time with some of my best friends this past week. I managed again, to get my dose of large, loud, family holiday goodness since I don't get it from mine. Two of my bests (I have a bunch) and I have been going through the Bourne trilogy... a feat we will complete on this coming Friday night.l I'll be seeing Distracted Spunk hopefully tomorrow, since I haven't seen her yet over this break, and then having a sleepover on the 29th with most of my bests in anticipation of New Years festivities.

For anyone keeping records, this Christmas will be dubbed "The Practical Christmas", work clothes, work tools, sewing kit, candy, gift cards, money. I'm cool with that.... must be getting old.

I'm in the process of ordering supplies for my desk at the Agency. Apparently it's sure enough now that I'm staying that they're letting me take all sorts of supplies from the closet and place a requisition for the things they don't have. It's crazy looking through a catalog like that for myself and settling in how I want my desk and drawer files arranged. I'm starting my career... and I like that a lot. I've said/felt all along that I didn't really just want another job, I wanted a career. I have every intention of staying with The Agency for the next 25+ years. I'll have fantastic benefits, a surprisingly flexible schedule, virtually no work taken home that I don't want taken home, weekends totally free, a good commute, and I get to work with good people performing very rewarding services. It's the job of a lifetime and I'm very lucky to have found it.

I'm starting a list of my plans for the coming year, so that next year I can see what I anticipated and what I got... In no particular order,
Getting a new (used) car
Traveling to NC, NY, VA, WV, ME, OR, CA twice, and hopefully Canada,
To continue writing A Life Worth Living...
Exploring Philadelphia
Becoming a permanent employee of The Agency
Feeling good about my level of physical health, appearance, and long term well being
Finally writing a part or whole of a book
Developing my ideas for a comic book series
Composing some seriously awesome BSG inspired music, and an 'orriginal' Christmas album
Learning to play the djembe and guitar better
Growing a bonsai tree

and maybe... just maybe, finding a girlfriend.... wherever she might be hiding.

What a frakking week...

This week started and ended on the two of some of the worst two freaking notes that I could pretty much have. Or maybe, just two of the biggest inconveniences. Or maybe not even that, and I'm just a materialistic frakking American. I don't know. I mean, signed on to write this post about how two of the worst things possible happened to me but I can't figure out why I'm still alright and not as phased as I feel that maybe I should be. As my fingers start to flow over the keyboard, and my mind fuels their direction, I find that I'm not really writing what I expected to be writing. So, the facts of the matter, are that on last Saturday my car was totaled, and this Saturday my $500 phone was somehow crushed in a car door. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a person who thinks things are just simply expendable, and have the ability to throw money at the problem like whatever, but I don't feel nearly as upset about those things as I feel like I should be... like I was last year this time.

Last year this time, I was just about to break through and start to come out of my full on depression. I had watched 87 episodes of Inu Yasha and scores of other movies and tv shows online, closed, in my room avoiding the world. I spent till all hours of the night perfecting my first report for The Agency, back when they still had me on a long leash working from home. Looking back I was so closed to the world that I wouldn't even want my windows opened in my room. Yeah, it was more than just the first accident with my car, it was that "post-college graduate funk" that we all go through, it was the complete withdrawal from anything IV at all, and of course my seasonal affective disorder. I was a mess... in the lowest point that I've been to thus far in life.

Now, they're just things. The car can be replaced, shit like that happens, it wasn't my fault and it'll all be alright. I'll get a car that I like, or I'll get some other good fortune out of it, like taking transplanting the old dark interior into my new car with a light interior with Surfer Boy. We'll spend the weekend, bond, have a good time, and I'll learn a hell of a lot more about my car. Is it an inconvenience now, yeah, but there's really nothing permanently detrimental in any way happening. The train takes me to work, my parents help out cause they're awesome, and I get to re-appreciate the value of just having a car. The phone can be replaced, it's just a phone, there are over 2 billion of them out there. Yes, it sucks it was my money I just cracked, and that I have to endure whatever reaction I'm gonna get from dad, but I screwed it up and nothing's really gonna change that. So I suck it up, deal with it, and move on.

There are so many worse things that could have happened. Deaths, personal injuries, global incidents.... Seriously, something like a Christmas bombing in Jerusalem would be loads worse than my personal auto or shitty phone. My aunt has been through an unbelievable road of some really rough shit in the past five years. These things of mine don't even play into any of it. They're so far removed from being anything remotely important it's absurd. Maybe I'm just in a better place this time, maybe this is part of my transition to a more adult thought process, maybe I'm starting to accurately assess the value in the different things in my life..... but whatever it is, I think it's definitely a step in the right direction, to a better me.

The blind leading the sighted...

Today was one of those days, that 2 years ago I would never have though possible. Not because it wasn't possible, but just because I'd had a cumulative total of "zero" experience with it. So I was at The Agency at work, like I am every day, and my boss was out so it was just me and MJ. Around leaving time, she asked if I wanted to figure out how to take the subway back to the train station. Now let's pause a moment. I'm you're normal, average, wearing glasses but see 20/20 like most people. MJ on the other hand, has a seeing eye dog. I know she can tell light/dark and some shades, but beyond that I'm not all too sure. And yes, she's going to teach me how to use the subway. I have no idea where the subway is and I'm not really a subway traveler except when I'm in DC or Chicago... even NYC until just very recently.

Working daily with MJ inspires me by itself, let alone the times like these that just become overwhelming in their own way. She's amazing too, in that she seemed to think nothing of it. That she was just showing a colleague another mode of transportation for them when the weather's bad or something. It went just like that... I met her at closing time and we walked out of the building. Took the elevator down to the lobby and then I basically just told her to lead the way, and lead she did. She turned right and led us out the other door than the one we usually take when we just walk through the city to the trains. Down the street, through two lights, made a left, walked down to the middle of the block and turned right into the stairway down to the subway entrance that I didn't even see from the road until we were almost on top of it. She took me right down the steps, showed me where the tickets were and how to use the system because it was different from the normal train tickets. Knew which stop to get off at and how to get up to the main level of the train station. All this, with virtually an insignificant amount of functional vision. These are the kinds of things she does every day.... and every day she's extraordinary.

Under the weather...

Ick. That's about how I feel. It's definitely not a full on flu thing, but man, it's just one nagging, "I feel shitty" feeling. Soup and tea for lunch and dinner, that's how I'm rollin'.

So, now that I've got my id and passkey for The Agency it was really awesome to see some of my fellow employee's be happy for me that I'm now "one of them". Usually I tend to enjoy keeping an unique (Ok, so I'm sidetracked in the middle of this sentence. Grammatically, we would use the word "an" in front of any word beginning with a vowel, an egg, an apple, an igloo, an understanding, etc. and the word "a" in front of words beginning with a consonant, a cat, a dog, a perfect, a zoo, etc... Now, I don't recall ever reading about any exceptions to that rule, though I admit that if any language will have an exception to it's established rules it's English, but that sentence confuses me!! It sounds right using "a" with either a long or short vowel sound... but no matter how many times I repeat it, "an unique" just doesn't quite cut it. Is it me? Am I sicker than I though and when I feel better I'm gonna read this and realize that "an" does sound right? Wow, anyway...)

What I was starting to say before my grammatical ADD kicked in, was that it was nice to have those employee's who've been at The Agency for a long time, accept me into the fold so that I can start my career with them. It's heartening, exciting, and just flipping cool.