Tic Tock

One of my favorite scenes is from My Cousin Vinny.

Mona Lisa: Well I hate to bring it up because I know you've got enough pressure on you already. But, we agreed to get married as soon as you won your first case. Meanwhile, ten years later, my niece, the daughter of my sister is getting married. My biological clock is ticking like this and the way this case is going, I ain't never getting married.

Vinny: Lisa, I don't need this. I swear to God, I do not need this right now, okay? I've got a judge that's just aching to throw me in jail. An idiot who wants to fight me for two hundred dollars. Slaughtered pigs. Giant loud whistles. I ain't slept in five days. I got no money, a dress code problem, and a little murder case which, in the balance, holds the lives of two innocent kids. Not to mention your biological clock - my career, your life, our marriage, and let me see, what else can we pile on? Is there any more shit we can pile on to the to of the outcome of this case? Is it possible?

Mona Lisa: Maybe it was a bad time to bring it up.

Ever since college, every woman I have met has seemed to have some sort of "biological clock" issue; some desire to mate, have children and settle down before it is "too late". For some of these women this desire to procreate is the sole driving force behind them finding a man and getting married, not even caring who the man is at the end of the day so long as everything is in working order. However, for the life of me, I have never really understood this. In fact, not many men I know do. Perhaps it's because of the way we are raised, or maybe it's brain chemistry. One of my friends has suggested that it is because men can reproduce well into our sixties, and so it doesn't matter as much to us. (There's a quote to the effect in When Harry Met Sally, but it presently escapes me.)

Most men I know who are getting married or have gotten married never expressed any desire to settle down and have kids soon, before it becomes "too late". Generally, they describe marriage as something that they do or did to make her happy. It wasn't that they didn't want to get married. It's not that they do or did not love the woman that they are marrying or that they are married to. It simply was not as pressing of an issue to them as it was to her.

I went to a cocktail reception last night for estate and financial planners, and realtors. Quite a lively bunch, let me tell you. All I kept getting asked was, "So are you married?" and "Do you have any kids?" Where are all the young people in this profession? I felt like what a woman must feel when she attends a family reunion, only to be interrogated by her friends and loved ones about why she isn't married yet, and when is she going to have children.

Digging in The Dirt

It sounded like the dumbest assignment I had ever heard in my life. "I want you to make a chart or a list of every woman you have ever been involved with, and list what propelled (attracted) you to them, and then what repelled you away from them." What a ridiculous assignment. I had different reasons for liking and leaving every one of them. It would be a complete waste of my time to go ahead and list all of them like that. However, I thought the same thing when she told me I had commitment issues, and I am paying for this advice, I might as well try it.

After I was about three quarters of the way through the list, I became disturbed. There were a lot more things all of these women had in common at the end of the day than I had ever noticed. Every one of these women had commitment issues at least equal to my own. Many of them only seemed to ever have long distance boyfriends. Many had troubled relationships with their fathers. All of them seemed to have trouble expressing and showing love, and opening up to me. I was getting into relationships that were doomed to fail; still playing the unloved victim role I had learned so well from my childhood. I couldn't help feeling slightly defeated. How far had I really come on this journey of my life, and how much further did I have to go?

"We need to explore your childhood, and the pain and emotions that you experienced in it. Not just the broad strokes, but individual occurrences." I was blank. My childhood? Yeah, I had one of those ... I think. Are we supposed to be able to remember all of that? I remembered everything from high-school (just about the time I stopped seeing my father) onward rather vividly. However, I just remembered vague things about my childhood - the yelling, the beatings, the alcohol, the drugs, and all the madness that was sure to ensue. However, I remembered much of it in the abstract. Reading Augusten's description of his childhood has sounded all too familiar in certain areas.

Slowly, almost like carrying out an excavation, memories have surfaced, and have been carefully brushed off, only to reveal more memories. Scattered and fragmented is my childhood. A sea of memories and emotions that I thought were but a series of unfortunate events best left in the past, have been wreaking havoc on my present. Attracting me to other fundamentally flawed individuals, perhaps out of a subconscious recognition of their similarities to my parents.

The Week Ends. The Week Begins.

So there is some good news to report (other than the Patriots illustrious victory over the Steelers) - no one I knew from Houston died this weekend. Although, I did have my doubts about whether they could withstand that much alcohol for such an extened period of time. Fortunately, they came through like champs. Hopefully, their livers did too.

I spent the majority of my weekend reading, watching movies, and trying to get a solid handle on my life and its direction. All this while avoiding phone calls from random girls I had no desire to speak with and roasting a chicken with a delicious lemon, honey, mango, garlic paste. Quite yummy.

I saw The Corpse Bride and Flightplan. Both decent flicks, but I'm not sure I would ever watch either of them again. Maybe I just don't like Tim Buton's animated classics. It was rather disappointing to me, however, because I had such high hopes. Somewhere in the middle of The Corpse Bride I realized that I had never liked Nightmare Before Christamas either. In fact the only reason I ever thought that I liked it was because it made my ex so happy. So I would find her things with characters from the movie on them to make her smile. Her smiling made me happy. Somehow I associated my liking her smile with the movie.... Very Pavlovian of me. Did someone hear a bell?

My reading would likely not have been very entertaining to most of you. I learned about the relocation of trust situs for state income tax purposes and for governing law purposes. You think that sounds like fun? Wait until I tell you about the articles about Internal Revenue Code section 4958 and intermediate sanctions for tax exempt organizations. (I read the tax exempt articles because I'm trying to help my friend author an article on the subject.) Ok, so I'm a nerd, but I'm a fun nerd. Oh, and I have started in on two Augusten Burroughs novels. Someone named Shane, commented awhile back that if I liked David Sedaris, I should try Augusten. So far I like him. His writings haven't struck that same funny bone in me that David strikes, but he is enjoyable. I'll know better once I get farther into them.

This upcoming weekend, I am supposed to go to Naples with my friend. She says we are going out on a 50 foot yacht. I can't really say no to that. I'm really starting to think I need a digital camera just to chronicle my upcoming weekend. Wherever there is a 50 foot yacht, fun is sure to follow ... and dolphins.

Hurricane Preparedness

"Are they crazy? Do they not understand there is a fucking hurricane coming? Do I just know better because I have lived through one now?"

These were the words of my friend that went through Charley last year, after I told her of folks I know in Houston and the surrounding areas that are staying for the wet and wild fun of Rita. What many people don't know about Charley is that it was a very small Category 5 hurricane. Powerful in force, but small in circumference. The other thing that many people do not know is it was supposed to strike Tampa, 90 miles north of where it actually ended up hitting. Hurricanes often do not hit where they are predicted to make landfall. For example, Andrew was not supposed to hit South Florida.

I was in Punta Gorda a few days following Charley, and the destruction was impressive. An entire electrical system, annihilated. Buildings, signs, trees, things that had been there for years were just gone, and would not be back for a long time to come, if ever. One of my friends lost her new house on her birthday. Happy birthday. My vocal friend from last night, lost a good portion of her house. However, the destruction from Charley was not limited to the one city. 60 miles south, in Naples, there were extensive power outages as well.

A hurricane seems to be one of those things that a lot of people simply do not understand until they live through one. It is not some rough weather. It is not just a rainy and windy day. It is something that can rip apart not only buildings and structures, but families, friends, and loved ones, as well, with no conscious or regret. My friends that survived Andrew knew people that they never heard from again.

After Katrina, I thought all of this would go without saying; that it would be clear to everyone that any storm capable of wreaking havoc and destruction through at least three states is not something you simply laugh in the face of. However, from what I am hearing, I may be mistaken.
To everyone in the Houston, Texas area, I wish you the best of luck, and I advise you now to get as far away from the possible storm track of Rita as possible. Worst case scenario, you get a nice vacation out of a storm that never came.

Faceless Strangers

They sit there quietly peering into my world. At times, I feel a little unnerved by the entire concept. There are people out there reading my blog on a constant basis, and I do not know who they are. I'm not just talking about the casual surfer that happens to stop by for a gander. I'm talking about my repeaters. The people that just cannot seem to get enough of whatever drivel I seem to be spouting for the day, but who never actually leave any trace of their presence. Who are these people, and what is their profound fascination with my life?

Through a series of linking, as I followed someone else's recent path through my blog, yes I can do that, and no, it's not as exciting as it sounds, I was reminded of random commenters that sprouted out of the woodwork when I broke up with my ex. Then just as suddenly, they all disappeared, or did they? Are they there still, merely lurking in the shadows, awaiting a new opportunity to voice their profound opinion?

Lurking and shadowy figures are the types of people you were taught to avoid as a child. Growing up, one never really thinks that they will become one of those people. The type of person you would move to the other side of the street from on your way home. You do not expect to become *that* person. The one that everyone quietly whispers about after they have passed. Yet, I know there are people out there watching my blog and my life with great interest, and they have become, in my world, exactly that.

Missing Pieces

"It's never going to work."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't have fake friends. You've never had fake friends. You're close to your friends, and you'll just wind up getting hurt if you try being friends with her. She didn't make time for you before, why would she make time for you now?"

"Humph."

"Don't get mad because you know I'm right. Now when are you coming to visit?"

That's how my conversations with my friends go, as I afford them carte blanche to say anything and everything about my life and my personal decisions. I do not always agree with what they have to say, but I always give them liberal space to run amok, as I respect their opinions. It is not always a two-way street, however. I, at times, will encounter enormous resistance to my equally straight forward advice, but sometimes that is part of friendship. Acknowledging the strengths and short comings of the person you are friends with and being willing and able to accept them.

The sheer geography that my friends cover is rather impressive. People mention a state, or sometimes a country, and I seem to know someone there or have a friend there. However, when I am forced to look closer to home, I lack those friends. My close circle of friends has migrated to bigger and better places, for bigger and better things. Some have remianed. They are around, but busy and otherwise occupied with marital strife, enormously demanding jobs, and complex relationships. It's the one thing I find lacking in the place I live, and the thing that I feel more pronounced when I am bored, with nothing to do. It's at those times that I truly consider moving somewhere that I already have friends. However, I always remember that I had no friends in Florida when I moved here, and after a few years I had more than I knew what to do with.

Maybe that is part of the problem in always demanding close and lasting friendships - you don't make as many superficial ones that you can leave mangled at the side of the road. You expect more and you'd rather have none than the ready-made type that comes out of a box and never looks as good as it did on the cover. However, the ones you do make, often end up lasting much longer.

It all started in law school:

"I've been thinking. We're really cool people."

"Ok."

"Well we do not have a lot of free time. We are very busy, and there are lots of people that would like to hang out with us. However, we should be more particular about who we hang out with. As really cool people, with limited time, we should only hang out with other cool people. We need to make a list." She wasn't kidding.

"Will I be on your list?"

"Not if you keep asking questions like that."

Busy Bee

Somehow my week has been very full, and I am already exhausted enough for it to be a Friday. I got to see my little brother yesterday, though, and that was a lot of fun. I got an email from my.... Gosh I'm not sure what she is. I guess she's like a coordinator. She emailed me a couple of days ago and told me that they had obtained an extension on complying with the new guidelines. I felt kind of bad for my little brother, though, because I'm not sure anyone really explained to him why I couldn't see him last week. In any event, we had lots of fun finishing the puzzle we had begun two weeks ago and playing Connect Four together with other various games. I even stayed an extra half-hour, until his mom showed up. He got mad at her again for coming to get him because he always ends up wanting to spend more time with me. Very cool.

Tonight I am heading over to teach another class, which will take me 'til about 10 tonight. I'll arrive home and get to bed by 11, only so that I can wake up and leave my apartment by 6:30 to get to Miami for my seminar that lasts until 3:45, and I need to be back by 6:00 for an appointment. I'm tired just thinking about it. I would have attended the seminar in a different location later next month, but this is the closest one being offered live, and I really prefer the live ones to the pre-recorded ones - especially if I have questions for the speakers.

Friday looks fairly action packed as well, with plenty of appointments during the day to keep me hopping. However, it can't be too bad, as it is a Friday, and no matter how bleak it looks, a Saturday is sure to follow.

My free time has been spent investigating the wondrous iPod nano. It looks awesome. The only bad thing that I have heard about it so far is that the company designed it with the headphone jack on the bottom of the system. Weird. I still think it looks really cool, though. Plus, it comes in black.

I've been trying to decide for weeks now between a digital camera or an iPod. I really feel that I should have one or the other. However, I can never make up my mind. I love the concept of an iPod, but I question when I would find the time to listen to it consistently. While at the same time, I long for a digital camera, but feel that none of my friends would appreciate being captured and placed on my blog in living color. Heck, I don't even use their names, to protect the innocent. My feeling is that I should probably get one or the other, though, even if just for my upcoming trips, which I *still* have not finalized!

That's about all I have time for folks. Sorry it's nothing very interesting or introspective. However, people were harassing me to post, and it is my life to date.

Swinging Single

I decided I was tired of dating this weekend. I just couldn't stomach it anymore. I couldn't deal with any more women asking me for commitment and getting jealous and clingy when I told them no. I didn't want to deal with it. I got tired of the casual flings and the meaningless physical encounters, of the zero intellect and complete void of personality, culture, and class. So I quit.

It was really quite liberating, actually. To no longer care, or have to explain yourself anymore. No longer having to invent reasons to yourself for why you are bothering to spend your time with these people at all. I don't have a lot of time, and I really do not see the point in spending the marginal amount I do have with people that I would not hang out with in everyday life. Instead, I saw my friends, played pool, went to the gym, watched football, made delectable delights, and enjoyed my life.

Saturday I summoned all my resources to make a Wellness Package for my friend. Looking through recipe books and eventually driving all around the area to locate the essential components: her favorite soup, good books, quality DVD's, a card (because without the card the person may think you're thoughtless), and a great bag on which you can emblazon the title "Bag of Wellness".

It was my project. It was finally doing something for someone that I actually care about, rather than all the meaningless people I have been sacrificing my time and energy for, and it felt good. Good to finally have someone you care about acknowledge and appreciate your efforts. That's when it clicked. That's when I was done. I need better.

Deal With It

I was speaking to someone about relationships the other day. She actually specializes in relationships and that kind of stuff. People that study human behavior and the manifestations of human emotions and impulses really intrigue me. I often wonder what more they see in the world and in people's behaviors than maybe I do - sort of the same way I might see more legal things in the world around me than she might. We ended up discussing this recurring theme I have been hearing from several women in relationships as of late - "It's not supposed to be hard." We both agreed that this is really not a realistic perspective. Relationships are not like the movies. They involve work and can be challenging in balancing the nuances of two people's lives and emotions.

It, of course, is individual; some relationships really are terrible, and should be ended. However, a lot of the relationship problems I have been seeing, as of late, stem from people that have issues that they refuse to contend with and from people that refuse to put forth any real effort in the relationship. A complete and total belief that if they just put their heads in the sand, it will be ok. After all, relationships should work like they do in the moves, conflict with total resolution within two hours. There's always the excuse, "I'll deal with it later, when there is less going on." Somehow the relationship, that at one point was extremely important to you, has taken the back seat to your career, job, friends, and the rest of your life. It's a great way of avoiding because life happens and there's always something you can find that's more important. There's also the one where you blame the other person for everything wrong with the relationship, but a relationship is two people, never just one.

Relationships are work. Deal with it. The concept is that you are with a person that you care about enough to put forth that amount of effort and energy.

My Labor (or lack thereof) Day Weekend

My Labor Day Weekend was action packed. Well, sort of.

It started out with my friend and I driving up to Orlando to celebrate another friend's 30th birthday. However, by the time we showed up, the party was over and almost everyone had gone home. We hung out for awhile and played various video games, and short clips from here. Eventually, just when I thought I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, everyone decided it was time for bed and I collapsed from exhaustion, only to awake a few hours later, as my internal clock oftentimes has difficulty discerning weekends.

Saturday was a total white trash day. There's no other way to describe a day that starts off with your friends deciding to go play video games in the world's largest McDonald's and ends with shopping at Wal*Mart. Good times. I couldn't believe the McDonald's restaurant. It has showcases of its foods, which include pasta dishes, wraps and all sort of things that you would never expect to see at a McDonald's. Weird.

Somewhere during the course of the day, I learned that I am not allowed to volunteer with Big Brothers Big Sisters until the organization and the school board figure out whether the school board needs to perform its own independent background check on me. Apparently, some worker in a school hurt or killed a girl recently and so there are new restrictions regarding who can be allowed access onto school property. I have no problem with this, but I really wish they could have worked this out at some point during the past month, before the school year started, and before I met my little brother. I also think my Bar admissions should be sufficient, as I do not think the Bar would allow a felon to be a member.

I came back on a very late night drive, arriving home at about 2 in the morning on Sunday, and again, collapsed from exhaustion. I finally managed to wake up sometime around noon so that I could drag my ass to the gym, and get my heart working again. Had a rather routine night, I guess and eventually wound up in my own bed.

Monday is where things get somewhat remarkable. Well, remarkable for me, but likely not anyone else. It started out like any other day, I went to the gym, got some groceries, managed to easily suppress my high hopes of reading the remainder of the research that was sent to me by my friend about charitable organizations, and was wandering about my apartment when I noticed my ex was instant messaging me. This wasn't totally out of the ordinary, as we have been known to do this on occasion, as of late. All part of our attempt to enter this brave new world of friendship after romance. There has to be a pill you could take for it, maybe a mixture of amnesia, combined with some good old fashioned denial, and a side of avoidance, but until such a thing is invented, I'm left to my own devices.

In any event, she got together with a mutual friend and me for dinner. It was really cool, though. It ended up lasting about three hours for her and I because she and I both arrived excessively early, but for different reasons, and stayed after our friend had gone home. The best part about the evening was that we were having fun together again. We were joking and smiling and hugging and laughing and were happy together again, and that was probably the coolest part of the evening. We had always been such great friends and losing that had sucked a lot so I'm hopeful that we will at least eke a friendship out of this mess. However, it's early yet, and I'm sure all kinds of things could go wrong in the process, but at least it's a start, and that is something.

I also realized, as I was with her, how much I have learned about myself through therapy in the last few months that I have spent working on me. It was really interesting to approach her, me, and our interactions with a different and fresher perspective. I'm still not sure what to make of it. It felt different, but familiar.

And that was my weekend.

Where Is The Relief?

I haven't been watching any news reports about Hurricane Katrina's aftermath. It's not hard to avoid them when you have so many other things going on in your life, and Comedy Central and The Food Network to pass the time with. Besides, I had assumed that relief efforts were underway and everyone was being taken care of, just like when there's a disaster anywhere. I mean September 11th happened with no warning, and we still had organized relief efforts underway and coordinated operations happening within hours.

Last night, I was listening to NPR, and I started hearing about how terrible the situation seemed in New Orleans. However, the program I was listening to was Marketplace, and it was focusing more on the economic impact of the disaster than anything else. Later last night, I started watching Dateline. It wasn't even on purpose. I simply was too lazy to walk across the room to find my remote and change the channel.

I was so mad.

This is ridiculous. Our Congress sat on its collective hands as the knew a Category 4 storm was bearing down on our country. It had hit Florida a scant two or three days before as a Category 1 storm and had left over a million people without electricity, some for days. How could our elected officials not have believed that things were going to be worse in the areas hit by Katrina as a fully grown Category 4? Why couldn't they think like smart people would, gotten up off their asses, and gotten back to Washington so they could appropriate funding for disaster relief, and work with the President to mobilize troops and agencies to coordinate a relief effort.

Granted, there was no way to determine *exactly* what would be needed until after it had hit. However, New Orleans, in cooperation with the Army Corp of Engineers had rehearsed for a storm like this one just a year or two earlier. Besides, certain items you know will be needed, like water, food, clothing, toilet paper, shelter, etc. The barest of essentials will be needed. It's not like this is the first relief effort we have ever undertaken.

Some of you might tell me, "They can't get the supplies in." To which I respond, "Bullshit. If you can get bus loads of people out of an area, you can get bus loads of supplies into and area. Hell we can get supplies to Iraq, Afghanistan, and even our damn space station. You cannot tell me we cannot get them into New Orleans. How many days did it take them to call up the National Guard? Why?

Why are we letting the bureaucrats fight over who should and who should not have the authority? Why doesn't our Commander-in-Chief appoint someone to headup the relief effort and let him run it? Hand it off to someone that has been trained to lead and command in a disaster area - perhaps a general (Colin Powell comes to mind) who can bring some sort of order to this mess.

I wrote my Senators, voicing my outrage. I got angry, as I watched our fellow Americans being left to die from lack of food and water. Private industry were mobilizing in the days following Katrina. Companies were donating money, offering their assistance, setting up Web pages and all kinds of things. Entertainers and networks were scheduling dates for concerts to help raise money for the relief effort. However, no one in our federal government was doing anything. Why was I having to write these people, my elected officials, to get them to do their jobs?

I feel completely let down by my government. Don't forget all the places out there trying to help and accepting donations. Give if you can afford to, but even if you can't, lend your voice to your fellow Americans.